Punch (99.1890)

JWmber 27, 1890.] PUNCH, OB THE LONDON CHARIVARI._149

novelettes of like kind. He savs that he is getting just the least bit ... rrrp«T,Wr i-tadv m»m/rinmr

l»t>l of Mignon, and the plain-spoken girls, and the rest of them. AN EFFECTIVE MILITARY MANOEUVRE.

°7 the way, he observes that it seems to be the fashion, judging » The day of cocked hats and plume* is past and gone. This head-dress is
irorn the pages of Ferrers Court, in what he may call "Service utterly unsuited for active service."—Military Correspondent's Letterto Ti
Tfv.- '" to continually of a largely advertising lady's tailor.

this custom spreads, he presumes that that popular topic of
conversation, the weather, will have to give place to the prior
claims for consideration of Somebody's Blacking, or Somebody-
else s Soap. This is to be regretted, as, in spite of the sameness of
subject of the Boutle's Baby series, John Stbange Winter is always
jnore amusing than nine-tenths of his (or should it be her ?) con-
temporaries. B. de B.-W. & Co.

P.S. No. 2.—The Baron wishes to add that on taking up the Bride

J Lanimermoor in order to refresh his memory before seting the new

rama> he was struck by a few lines in the description of Lucy
Askton, which, during rehearsals, must have been peculiarly appro-
priate to her representative at the Lyceum, Miss Ellen Terry.
ttere they are:—"To these details, however trivial, Lucy lent
Patient and not indifferent attention. They moved and interested

• inrt(> and that was enough to secure her ear." " Great Scott! "
"Weed! Perfectly prophetic, and prophetically perfect.

_ B. de B.-W.

STALKING THE SAGACIOUS STAG.

Sporting Notes from Our Special Representative.

wh ^,AB an *nyite fr°m Jepson, a Stock Exchange acquaintance,
wno nas rented a Moor for the winter months, and who, happening
hn^far ^at 1 ani^ mv two f°reign friends were in the neighbour-
„ °5 most kindly asked me to come and have a look at his box,
and bring them with me.

wa l'rlear'" ne writes, "that the deer are very lively, and if you
noT,1^ v3 saow your foreign friends some first-rate British Sport, you
can t do better than bring them."

eoalt +f say that 1 JumPed at this. Coming along on the top of the
hav i takes us to Spital-hoo, the place my friend has rented, I
of t? endeavouring to describe what I imagine to be the nature

* the sport of Deer-stalking to the Chief and the Bulgarian Count,
rnvri| rm.er>. who has been listening attentively, says that, from
h".description, stalking a stag must be very much the same as
the \S tile double-humped bison in Mwangumbloola, and that
Bni t / weapon he stall take with him will be a pickaxe. I have

dee? * i?1^ t0 nim that 1 doii't think tnis wiu he any use> as in
seem s 1 fancy you follow the stag at some distance, but he

haias,r.esolute about the pickaxe, and so, I suppose, I must let him
mat? 1113 way. The Bulgarian Count was deeply interested in the
of n •r'ianAsays that evidently the proper weapon to use is a species
its nng' rePeating Hotchkiss, and that he has one now on

Will^fy trough Edinburgh, the invention of a compatriot, that
if h "^00- two-ounce bullets in a minute and a-half. I fancy,
I _ e uses this, he will surprise the neighbourhood; but, of course,
not said anything to interfere with his project,
"e have arrived at Spital-hoo all safe and sound, and Jepson

has given us a
most cordial wel-
come. But I must
now have once
more recourse to
my current notes.

I have now been
something like
five hours on the
tramp, plodding
my way through a
deep glen in a pine
forest, but have
not yet come across

formSlgn of a sta^ I started with the Chief and the Count, but the
the I Lsoon went off at a tangent somewhere on his own book, and
WorTr + j' WQ0 nao- s°t his Hotchkiss with him and found it heavy
to tnt ag it up and down the mountain paths, I have left behind
Uste ™ rest aild recuperate himself. I pause in my walk and

Jbp' • forest is intensely still. Not a sign of a stag anywhere.
MinTf0N is left at home, as he is expecting a couple of local
whni i5a \° tea, but he has told me I'm "bound to come across
been f+r|s of them," if I only tramp long enough. Well, I've
hy tv ^.ave hours, and I certainly ought to have spotted something
ahenj *tuae> By Jove, though, what's that moving in the path
he an e? ft is! It is a stag.' A magnificent fellow—though
seen rs to ^ave m^ one horn. But, how odd! I believe he has
itts. :me,\an|l yet doesn't seem scared! Yes, he is actually approaeh-
oorre t «?■ most leisurely fashion in the world. But that isn't the
deer I ?" *n deer-stalking, I'm sure you ought to stalk the
QnTI,' n°t the deer stalk you. And this creature is absolutely coming

wn 011 me. Oh! I can't stand this. I shall have a shot at him.

suggestion, in consequence, fob new costume fob. geneeai.
OeEICEBS ■— so that they might be mistaken by the enemy

for harmless gentlemen-farmers engaged in agricultural
Pursuits.

Bang! Have fired—and missed ! And, by Jove, the stag doesn't
seem to mind! He is coming nearer and nearer. He actually
comes close to where I am kneeling, and with facetious friendliness
removes my Tarn o'Shanter! But, hulloah ! who is this speaking ?
"Ha, and would ye blaze awa wi' your weepons upon poor old
Epaminondas, mon! " It is an aged Highlander who is addressing
me, and he has just turned out of a bye-path. He is fondling the
creature's nose affectionately, and the stag seems to know him. I
remark as much.

"Ha! sure he does," he replies, " Why there's nae a body doon
the glen but has got a friendly word for puir Old Epaminondas.
You see he's blind o' one 'ee, and he's lost one o' his antlers, and
he's a wee bit lame, and all the folk here about treat him kindly,
when ye thought to put that bit o' lead into him just noo, sure he
was just eomin' to ye for a bit o' oatmeal cake."

I express my regret for having so nearly shot the '' Favourite of
the Glen " through inadvertence ! I explain that I came out deer-
stalking, and did not expect, of course, to come across a perfectly
tame and domestic stag.

" A weel, there's nae mischief done," continues my interlocutor;

"but it's nae good a stalking Epaminondas, for he's just a

sagacious beastie altogether."

# # # * * ^»

Here we are at the Lodge. But, hulloah! what's this uproar on
the lawn ? A herd of deer dashing wildly over everything, flower-
beds and all, and, yes, absolutely five of them bursting into the
house, through one of the drawing-room windows, while Jebson and
the two kirk Ministers emerge hurriedly, terrified, from the other.
Crash! And what's that? Why, surely it can't be—but yes, I
believe it is—yes, it positively is the Chief's pickaxe that has flown
through the air, and just smashed through the upper panes, scat-
tering the glass in a thousand fragments in all directions !

And thus ends my Stalking for the Present, and (probably) the
Future!