The First of September, remember
The day of supremest delight.
Get ready the cartridge, the partridge
Must fall in the stubble ere night.
The breechloader's ready, and steady
The dog that we taught in old days;
He's firm to his duty, a beauty
That cares for but one person's praise.
He's careful in stubble, no trouble
In turnips, he's keen as a man;
But looks on acutely, and mutely
Seems saying, "Shoot well, if you can!"
They flash from the cover--what lover
Of sport does not thrill as they rise
In feathered apparel? Each barrel
Kills one, as the swift covey flies.
So on through the morning, still scorning
All rest until midday has past,
When lunch should be present, and pleasant
That _al fresco_ breaking of fast.
One pipe, then be doing, pursuing
The sport that no sport can eclipse;
So homeward to dinner, a winner
Of praise from the fairest of lips.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A HUMANE INSTINCT.--_Snob_ (_who has been making himself
very objectionable_). "I say, what do you do with your game?"
_Host._ "Give my friends what they want, and send the rest to market."
_Snob._ "Ah, sell it, do you? With my game, don'tyer-know, I give my
friends some, and send the rest to the hospitals."
_Host._ "And very natural and proper, I'm sure. The only thing I've seen
you shoot to-day was a beater!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Husband._ "Look out, Kitty. There are some birds just in
front of you!"
_Wife_ (_out for the first time_). "Then, for goodness sake, keeper,
call that silly dog of yours! Can't you see he's standing right in my
way?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AN UNFORTUNATE REMARK.--_Novice_ (_to host, after walking
for two hours under a brilliant sun without seeing a single bird_).
"Grand day, isn't it?"
[_N.B._--_He only meant to lighten the general depression, but he wasn't
invited again._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A WISE PRECAUTION
_Sportsman_ (_to his wife, who is rather a wild shot._) "By Jove! Nelly,
you nearly got us again, that time! If you are not more careful, I'll go
home!"
_Old Keeper_ (_sotto voce_). "It's all right, squire. Her bag is full of
nothing but _blank_ 'uns!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "GUNNING WITH A SMELL DOG"
(_B. Jonathan, Esq., having missed a hare, the dog drops to the shot_)
_B. J._ (_scornfully_). "Call that a good dawg? I reckon he ain't worth
candy! When the beast's sitting, he stands and looks at him; and when he
runs away, he lies down and looks at me!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Keeper._ "Would you gentlemen kindly tell me which of
you two is a lord, _as I've been told to give him the best place_."]
* * * * *
_Gentleman._ "That looks a well-bred dog."
_Owner._ "I should think he was well-bred. Why, he won't have a bit er
dinner till he's got his collar on!"
* * * * *