poultonian

Updated: July 10, 2026

Then George and I went in pursuit of a turkey for the Skipper. It was an elusive bird with a perfectly Poultonian swerve, but with a bagful of curses, a bleeding hand, and a large stick, I did it to death. We set out merrily and picked up Spuggy, Cecil, and George in the big forest that stretches practically from the Marne to Tournan. There I bought some biscuits and George scrounged some butter.

William Henry Lowe Watson - Adventures of a Despatch Rider