ON A DANGEROUS SHOT
Reading edition
(By Mr. Punch's Vagrant)
He seemed an inoffensive man When first I saw him on the stubble; Made on the self-same sporting plan As those who shoot with ease or trouble! The average men, in fact, whose skill (A thing of luck far more than habit) Tempts them at times to go and kill The hare, the partridge and the rabbit. He rushed not and he did not lag; He kept the line when we were walking. He had a useful cartridge-bag; And was not prone to useless talking. He smoked an ordinary pipe; His guns were hammerless ejectors; He wore a fairly common type Of patent pig-skin leg-protectors. He told a story now and then, Some ancient tale of fur or feather, That sportsmen love to smile at when On Autumn days they come together. In fact, he seemed to outward view In all his gunned and gaitered glory, Just such a man as I or you, Except—but that's another story. Except (I'll tell it) when he shot: Then, then he did not care a cuss, sir; He blazed as if he hadn't got The least regard for life or us, sir. Our terrors left him unafraid; He tried for full-grown birds and cheepers, And, missing these, he all but made A record bag of guns and keepers.
The Sinews of Sport.—The Marquis (to head keeper). "Now, Grandison, His Royal Highness will be tired of waiting: why don't you send in the beaters?"
Head keeper (sotto voce). "Beg pardon, my lord, the London train's late this morning with the pheasants—we must have half an hour to get 'em into the coverts!"
At The Quickshot Club.—First Sportsman. Well, I killed four rabbits with two barrels last September.
Second Sportsman. And I had five partridges on one drive, three coming towards me, and two with fresh cartridges over the hill.
Third Sportsman (wearily). But nobody comes up to my slaying of an elephant in Assam with a pea rifle. Would you like to hear the yarn?
[The Third Sportsman is immediately left alone.
Mr. Punch has pleasure in directing the attention of sportsmen of his own limited stature to an advertisement in the Field announcing the sale of an estate, "including fifty acres of sporting woods, together with a small gentleman's residence."
HIS FIRST BIRD
"Well, I didn't miss that one, at all events!"
"No, sir. They will fly into it, sometimes!"
Circumstances over which he has no control oblige the Pater to celebrate the glorious twelfth in town this year. With the help of the poulterer, and the boys (at home for the holidays), he enjoys such excellent sport, that he says "never no moor" will he lavish hundreds of pounds on what he can get for next to nothing at home.
One Way of Looking at it!—Delinquent (to his host). "Oh, I'm most unfortunate! Now, you're the third man I've hit to-day!"
Sportsman (who has just shot a duck). "I think he'll come down, Duncan."
Duncan. "Ay, sir, he'll come down—when he's hungry."
"THE GLORIOUS FIRST"
Young Newstyle (justly indignant, to Squire Oldacres). "There!—'Knew how it would be when you would bring out those beastly dogs. Always in the way, hang 'em!"
Brotherly Candour.—Jack (to lady, come out to lunch). "Are you coming with the guns this afternoon, Miss Maud?"
Miss Maud. "I would, but I don't think I should like to see a lot of poor birds shot!"
Jack. "Oh, if you go with Fred, your feelings will be entirely spared!"
A Risky Proceeding.—Mr. Pipler (of Pipler & Co.) is having his first day on his recently-acquired moor. Any amount of shooting. Bag, absolutely—nothing.
Master Pipler (after much thought). "Of course, they are far too valuable to be killed and eaten, pa. But isn't it rather dangerous to frighten them so much? I heard ma saying they cost you at least a guinea a brace!"
TRIALS OF A NOVICE
Old Hand. "Now, for the last time, for goodness' sake don't shoot any of us, or the dogs, or yourself."
Novice (sarcastically). "What about the birds?"
Old Hand. "Oh, you won't hit them!"
MR. MUGGS' GROUSE MOOR
Mr. Muggs leaves for the north. Mr. M. as he appeared, half a minute before the train started, minus half of his luggage, and with the guard shouting to him to take his seat!
"Pheasant-shooting in some districts will suffer through lack of birds. The wet weather has been fatal to the young broods."—Shooting Reports.
Head Keeper (on the First). "Werry sorry, my lord, but this 'ere's th' on'y one as we've manisht to rare. Will I put it up for your lordship?"
Beater (to hare that refuses to leave her form). "Get oop, ye lazy little beggar an' join in t' spoort!"
SHOOTING PROSPECTS
Johnnie Bangs. "I say, old man, do you mind taking these cartridges out? I've never used a gun before, don't you know!"
The End of the Season.—Passing Friend. "Hulloa, Jack! Why on earth are you hiding there?"
Jack. "Only safe place, don't you know. Governor's giving the tenants a day to finish the covers. They've just about finished two dogs and a beater already!"