_First Partridge._ Hallo! Goin' strong on the wing?
_Second Partridge._ So, so, dear bird. What prospects for the openin'?
[Illustration]
_F. P._ Nothin' cheerful. Agricultural depression and Death Duties and
Pariah Councils and all that. Hear they're goin' to make allotments in
our beanfield.
_S. P._ Yes, and the Anti-Shootin' League and the claptrap against the
Lords. It's very depressin'. However, with a sportin' Government in,
things will be lookin' up.
_F. P._ Takes time, my feathered one, takes time. Why, they're still
sittin' with the season just comin' on. Hear it's doocid dull in town,
too, with the pavin' up in the Mall and all that.
_S. P._ Where do you get the club talk from, old rooster?
_F. P._ Bird I know keepin' over in the roots. Pal of a poacher that's
thick with one of these West End game-mongers. Get the latest from
him. Hear HEALY and TANNER and that lot are on the
war-path, and heaven only knows when the House will be up.
_S. P._ Wouldn't have mattered much in the good old days before the
guv'nor let the shootin' to the brewin' Member. Lords never did a
stroke of work after the Twelfth; but these Commoners ain't born
and bred among the turnips. Only take the shootin' for the sake of
appearances.
_F. P._ Yes; and I hear that the brewin' fellow's given the first
week's sport to three of these New Women.
_S. P._ Means a bad time for us--blazin' into the brown, and all that.
Give me the right kind of sport, I say, and a fly for my money. With
these 'prentice hands you never know where you are, don't you know?
Bound to fly into the pips some day or other.
_F. P._ And probably no dogs to give you a wrinkle how things lie.
Keepers won't bring 'em out at any price. Say it's chancy enough for
themselves and the beaters, without riskin' a decent-bred setter. Lost
three and a half brace of clippin' Gordons with two New Women guns last
season over the other side of the county.
_S. P._ Goin' in for co-operation this year? What do you think of the
covey system?
_F. P._ Played out, dear bird. Social fads a bit off colour, don't you
know, in these Tory days. Individualism, I say, and let every fowl sit
tight for himself, especially with this wild shootin' goin' on. Family
ties a little loose, too, this end of the century. Look at the Divorce
Courts.
_S. P._ No chance of Protection, I suppose?
_F. P._ Afraid not. You see they're keepin' JIMMY LOWTHER
quiet with a heavy job on Committees. By the way, I see
BRODRICK'S gettin' in a lot more ammunition for small-arms.
Glad it's smokeless powder. Old stuff used to knock the landscape about
badly. Then, again, apart from the view, must say I like to see where
I'm flyin'.
_S. P._ Pity CHAPLIN didn't get laid on to our department.
Hear he had a notion for a bi-metallic gun; dead safe to settle
agricultural depression.
_F. P._ Well, anyhow, ROSEBERY did us the compliment to make
our last man a Lord; though perhaps it was a covert insult, seein' he
was boomin' against the Upper Chamber. Take it all round, I'm for a
Tory Government. One of their openin' moves, you see, is to put the
First on a Sunday. That's a bit sportsmanlike.
_S. P._ Yes, but they're a mixed lot--this coalition. Tell me that J.
C. don't know a muzzle from a butt-end! However, here's luck and rude
health to all good sportsmen. _Vive le Sport!_ I'm off with the missus
for a mornin' fly. Ta-ta!
[_Exeunt._
* * * * *
[Illustration: RATIOCINATION.
_Rector._ "DUGGAN, ATTENTION! AS YOU'RE AN OLD BALACLAVA SOLDIER, I
AM INCLINED TO MAKE ALLOWANCES; BUT THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I HAVE SEEN
YOU UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF DRINK! HOW IS THIS?"
_Sexton._ "WELL, YOU SEE, SIR, WHEN I GO DOWN TOWN, ONE FELLOW
SAYS, 'DUGGAN, WILL YOU HAVE A DRINK?' AND ANOTHER SAYS THE SAME, AND I
GET DRUNK WITHOUT KNOWING IT!"
_Rector._ "BUT, DUGGAN, WHEN I GO DOWN TOWN, NO ONE ASKS ME TO TAKE
A DRINK!"
_Sexton._ "YES; BUT YOU'RE NOT NEARLY SUCH A POPULAR MAN, YOU
SEE!"]
* * * * *