Punch (103.1892)

December 10, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 265

CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOE YOUNG [SHOOTERS.

The^Smoking-Room [continued).

I mat assume, that after the terrible example given in my last
chapter, you have firmly made up vour mind never on any account
to take service in the great army of bores. But this determination
is not all that is necessary. A man must constantly keep a strict
guard on himself, lest he should unconsciously deviate even for a
few minutes into the regions of boredom. Whatever you do, let
nothing tempt you to relate more than once any grievance you may
have. Nothing of course is more poisonous to the aggrieved one than
to stifle his grievance absolutely. Once, and once only, he may
produce it to his friends. I shall be blamed, perhaps, i'or making
even this slight concession. Please be careful, therefore, not to
abuse it. Is there in the whole world a more ridiculous sight than a
strong, healthy, well-fed sportsman who wearies his companions one
after another with the depressing recital of his ill-luck, or of the

These are not the only, but certainly the chief ingredients. Let
me give you an example, drawn from my note-book.

Scene—The. Smoking-room of a Country-house in December. Six
Sportsmen in Smoking-coats. Time, 11'15 p.m.

First Sportsman [concluding a harangue). All I can say is, I never
read such rot in all my life. "Why, the fellow doesn't know a gun
from a cartrids:e-bag. I'm perfectly sick of reading that ever-
lasting rubbish about "pampered minions of the aristocracy
slaughtering the unresisting pheasant in his thousands at battues."
I wonder what the beggars imagine a rocketing- pheasant is like ?
I should like to have seen one of 'em outside Chivy Wood to-day.
I never saw taller birds in my life. Talk of them being easy!
Why, a pheasant gets ever so much more show for his money when
he 's beaten over the guns. If they simply walk him up, he hasn't
got a thousand to one chance. Bah ! [Drinks from a long glass.

Second Sportsman. I saw in some paper the other day what the
President of the United States thought about English battue

dastardly behaviour of the head-keeper in not stopping the whole | shooting. Seemed to think we shot pheasants perched in the trees,
party for half an hour to search for an imaginary bird, which is ' and went on to say that wasn't the sport for him ; he liked to go
supposed to have fallen stone-dead somewhere or other ; or of the ! after his game, and find it for himself. Who the deuce cares if he
iniquities of the man from whom he bought his cartridges in not i does ? If he can't talk better sense than that, no wonder Cleveland
loading them with the right charge ; or any of the_ hundred incon- ! beat him in the election.

veniences and injuries to which sportsmen are liable. All these j Third Sp. Pure rubbish, of course. Still I must say, apart from
things may be as he says they are. _ He may be the most unfortunate, | pheasants, I like the old plan of letting your dogs work. It's far
the most unjustly treated of mankind. But more sport than walking up partridges in

why insist upon it ? Why check the current line, or getting them driven at you.

of sympathy by the dam of constant repe- ; ^. .., u ;. , First Sp. My dear fellow, I don't agree

tition? And, after all, _how trivial and "^MM^ MM^Mdj \^ ' with . you a bit. In the first place, as to

absurd the whole thing is! Even a man IBK^Bll^TOfwWpAW'-fW^ driving—driven birds are fifty times more

whose career has been ruined by malicious difficult; and what's the use of wasting

persecution will be avoided like a pest if it /iWr^M\ "' time with setters or pointers inordinary

is known that he dins the account of his ' M'vS^ ^^'^^^^S^^^ ^5f||if root-fields. It's all sentiment,

wrongs into everyone's ears. How, then, /<l4ff|i^V'kr ~~ ■ ^^^•/■'■.flk fl^W [A long and animated discussion ensues.

shall the sufferer by the petty injuries of /[jm,1mm\^wgL."-^5dra|fH^.^ilil^^IWfflf This particular subject never fails to

ordinary sport be listened to with patience ? ■' mm^B^A J^Vj^^pte^V.'f$mf--' - ^rS| provoke a tremendous argument.

Of all bores, the grievancemonger is the W^z Mf1 □K^MS^'jJ^^^SHi [A few minutes later.)

fiercest and worst. Lay this great truth \j ;/ j/fA) \ it»||\•'^^^mFJHmWm/^^^^m^ o 7 & ',, 7 , mi + i\

by in your memory, aid bo mindful of If . lV, ^nSS^H^KsmSi-' W v S'T"\ ''r ' ]' *"* "M

^beutKc=^efatterS ^ SP°rt ^..MmtW^W^m ^E52SffiS3£a and forty-five

edT say. whether a man |#f^ffl| rabbit,, _e!even hare.

1 nave been asKed to say, wnetner a man WmlSmW'r s-'MmiA*^ ftVs^vJ^^^L fu • j j i w u ii

may abuse his gun ? I reply emphatically, «gj^fjB ^H^^^^ *hree Paeons, and a woodcock We should

no. A gun is not a mere ordinary machine: ^ & J * WrW^ T A^^L ' ¥fY? *t A W?* l " ^ ?

Tf- K»«J?f5*ni a™,™*™,™*. nf Lv. ,nd fJ^O^ . W M» 8) X\Wm$mf VL m they hadn't dodged us in the big wood.

Its beautiful arrangement of locks, and \J IB Mf JW/ Vh' V I V * T fT +w ™f

springs, and catches, and bolts, and pins, 1 can t n^e °f* *he™ the^ ™t;iilf _ ,

n™1 o^rpwa if a ,n,ln„t.W» ri«,OT.fe«' A-^ 7% W'^t^ \ ' < 1 I . ^COnd Sp. It '_S a deUCed difficult WOod

and screws, its unaccountable perversities, ^ A^Waa lK%@3 \ m\ i i - >l x v i ?uT;. t*i. x.*. mn „i____sa u«„„

its occasional fits of sulkiness, its lovely ' \WW\A i f '^t ^ g T V

brown complexion, audits capacity both ^ MlMf • 1 I 1 \1 01% g °nTJ fir Iif 1?Ev T»™ n^.

for kicking and for smoking, all prove that M| J' W' il , SvfZ J^ £ ™L J ^J«f«P TW«

a gun is in reality a sentient being of a , A *M\ | '!, ) . », A 1 ^ 7^ gf* f?J?SX ZZ ^JL

vefy high order of intelligence. You may . 1 / \ \W4 / V/ Iff * ! / won 1 be f h7are7!eft in a year 0I1tw,0'

be quite certain that if you abuse your x x \\p?'' f/f >/h \ / I |CH 1 [The discussion proceeds.)

gun, even when you may imagine it to be ] ' ' W- '' ^ Third Sp. How's old Johnny Eaikes

far out of earshot, comfortably cleaned and shooting this year ? I never saw such a chap

put to roost on its rack, your gun will re- for rocketers. They can't escape him

sent it. Why are most sportsmen so silent, so distraits at break
fast ? Why do they dally with a scrap of fish, and linger over the
consumption of a small kidney, and drink great draughts of tea
to restore their equilibrium ? If you ask them, they will tell you
that it's because they're "just a bit chippy," owing to sitting up
late, or smoking too much, or forgetting to drink a whiskey and
soda before they went to bed. I know better. It is because they
incautiously spoke evil of their guns, and their guns retaliated by
haunting their sleep. I know guns have this power of projecting
horrible emanations of themselves into the slumbers of sportsmen who
have not treated them as they deserved. I have suffered from it
myself. It was only last week that, having said something deroga-
tory to the dignity of my second gun, I woke with a start at two
o'clock in the morning, and found its wraith going through the most
horrible antics in a patch of moonlight on my bed-room floor. I shot
with that gun on the following day, and missed nearly everything I
shot at. Could there be a more convincing proof ? Take my advice,
therefore, and abstain from abusing your gun.

Now your typical smoking-room conversation ought always to
include the following subjects •—(1) The wrong-headed, unpopular
man, whom every district possesses, and who is always at logger-
heads with somebody; (2) " The best shot in England," who is to be
found in every country-side, and in whose achievements all the
sportsmen of his particular district take a patriotic pride ; (3) the
folly and wickedness of those who talk or write ignorantly against
any kind of sport; (4) the deficiency of hares due to the rascally
provisions of the Hares and Rabbits Act; (5) a few reminiscences,
slightly glorified, of the particular day's sport; and (6) a prolonged
argument on the relative merits of the old plan of shooting birds
over dogs, and the modern methods of walking them up or driving.

Chalmers. I asked him to-day, but he couldn't come. I think for
pheasants he's quite the best shot in England. Nobody can beat
him at that game.
Fourth Sp. Hasn't he got some row or other on with Ckackside ?
Chalmers. Yes. That makes fourteen rows Crackside has got
going on all at once. He seems to revel in them. > His latest move
was to ref use to pay tithe, and when the parson levied a distress, he
made all his tenants drunk and walked at their head blowing a post-
horn. He's as mad as a hatter.

So there you have a sample conversation, sketched in outline.
You will find it accurate enough. All you have to do is to select for
yourself the part you mean to play in it.

Something- to Live For.

[From the Literary Club Smoking-room.)

Cynicus. I'm waiting till my friends are dead, in order to write My

Reminiscences ?
Amicus. Ah, but remember. " De mortuis nil nisi bonum.,}
Cynicus. Quite so. I shall tell nothing but exceedingly good

stories about them.__

So Like Her!—" I can never trust him," said Mrs. R., alluding
to a friend of hers, who considered himself well up in Shakspeare,
"because I've found out before now that he gargles his quo-
tations."__

Note.—"The Man who Would," will appear next week. No. IV.

vol. cm.