LUNCH (_continued_).--Perhaps the best piece of advice that I can
give you, my young friend, is that--for conversational purposes--you
should make a careful study of the natures and temperaments of your
companions. Watch their little peculiarities, both of manner and of
shooting; pick up what you can about their careers in sport and in
the general world, and use the knowledge so acquired with tact and
discretion when you are talking to them. For instance, if one of the
party is a celebrated shot, who has done some astonishing record at
driven grouse, you may, after the necessary preliminaries, ask him
to be good enough to tell you what was the precise number of birds he
shot on that occasion. Tell him, if you like, that the question arose
the other day during a discussion on the three finest game-shots of
the world. If you happen to know that he shot eighteen hundred birds,
you can say that most people fixed the figure at fifteen hundred.
He will then say,--"Ah, I know most people seem to have got that
notion--I don't know why. As a matter of fact, I managed to get
eighteen hundred and two, and they picked up twenty-two on the
following morning." Your obvious remark is, "By Jove!" (with a strong
emphasis on the "by") "what magnificent shooting!" After that, the
thing runs along of its own accord. With a bad shot your method is,
of course, quite different. For example:--
_Young Shot_. I must say I like the old style of walking up your birds
better than driving, especially in a country like this. I never saw
such difficult birds as we had this morning. You seemed to have the
worst of the luck everywhere.
_Bad Shot_. Yes--they didn't come my way much. But I don't get much
practice at this kind of thing--and a man's no good without practice.
_Y.S._ That was a deuced long shot, all the same, that you polished
off in the last drive. When I saw him coming at about a hundred miles
an hour, I thanked my stars he wasn't my bird. What a thump he fell!
_B.S._ Oh, he was a fairly easy shot, though a bit far off. I daresay
I should do well enough if I only got more shooting. I'm not shooting
with my own gun, though. It's one of my brother's, and it's rather
short in the stock for me.
That starts you comfortably with the Bad Shot. You soothe his ruffled
vanity, and give him a better appetite for lunch.
Now, besides the Good Shot, and the Bad Shot--the two extremes, as
it were, of the line of shooters--you might subdivide your sportsmen
further into--
(1.) _The Jovial Shot._ This party is on excellent terms with himself
and with everybody else. Generally he shoots fairly well, but there
is a rollicking air about him, which disarms criticism, even when
he shoots badly. He knows everybody, and talks of most people by
nick-names. His sporting anecdotes may be counted upon for, at any
rate, a _succès d'estime_. "I never laughed so much in my life," he
begins, "as I did last Tuesday. There were four of us--Old SANDY,
BUTCHER BILL, DICK WHORTLEBURY, and myself. SANDY was driving us back
from Dillwater Hall--you know, old PUFFINGTON's place--where we'd been
dining. Devilish dark night it was, and SANDY's as blind as a bat.
When we got to the Devil's Punchbowl I knew there'd be some warm
games, 'cos the horse started off full tilt, and, before you could say
knife, over we went. I pitched, head first, into DICK's stomach, and
SANDY and BILL went howling down like a right and left of rabbits.
Lord, I laughed till the tears ran down my face. No bones broken, but
the old BUTCHER's face got a shade the worst of it with a thorn-bush
on the slope. Cart smashed into matchwood, of course."
(2.) _The Dressy Shot._ Wonderful in the boot, stocking, and gaiter
department. Very tasteful, too, in the matter of caps and ties. May
be flattered by an inquiry as to where he got his gaiters, and if they
are an idea of his own. Sometimes bursts out into a belt covered with
silver clasps. Fancy waistcoats a speciality. His smoking-suit, in
the evening, is a dream of gorgeous rainbows. Is sometimes a very fair
shot. Generally wears gloves, and a fair moustache.
(3.) _The Bored Shot._ A good sportsman, who says he doesn't care
about sport. Often has literary tastes. Has views of his own, and is,
consequently, looked upon as a rather dangerous idealist by honest
country gentlemen, who confine their reading to an occasional peep at
the _Times_, and an intimate quoting acquaintance with the novels of
Mr. SURTEES. Often shocks his companions by telling them he really
doesn't care much about killing things, and would just as soon let
them off. However, he shows a perfectly proper anger if he misses
frequently. Is not unlikely to be an authority on sheep and oxen, and
may, perhaps, be accepted as the Conservative Candidate for his County
division, dumb but indignant County magnates finding that he expresses
their views better than they can do it themselves. Don't talk to
him about sport. Try him with books, interesting articles in the
Magazines, and so forth.
(4.) _The Soldier Shot._ This kind is generally a Captain, dresses
well, but not gaudily, and smokes big cigars. There seems to be a
general idea that a man who can teach privates to shoot targets must
be able to shoot game himself. Yet the Soldier Shot misses birds
quite beautifully. He will have often shot big game in India with
an accuracy that increases in proportion to the number of miles that
separate him from the scene of his exploits. After all, the ability
to "brown" a herd of elephants does not guarantee rights and lefts at
partridges. Apt to declaim tersely and forcibly about the hardships of
a military career.
(5.) _The Average Shot._ Talk to him about average matters, unless you
hear he is a celebrity in some other branch of sport. In that case,
get details from him of his last Alpine climb, or his latest run to
hounds, or ask his views on racing matters. Most average shots go
racing, and think they understand all about it.
I say nothing here about the Dangerous Shot, because it is never
right to get within talking distance of him. In fact, he ought not to
be talked to at all. I am not sure he ought to be allowed to live.
Still, his exploits furnish material for many an animated conversation
amongst the survivors.
* * * * *
[Illustration: --"ANIMIS COELESTIBUS IRÆ!"