The old-time gunner went out in the morning with all manner of
contrivances and implements stowed about his person. He wore a
shot-belt for distributing the weight of his lead, he carried neat
little magazines, so that he might the more easily handle his copper
percussion-caps, and he wore a wallet of leather containing such tools
as a nipple-wrench and spare parts--the nipples in the gun might break
or blow out. The careful man carried a wad-punch, and in emergency
would punch wads for his muzzle-loader out of his felt hat or his
neighbour's--what could be a more neighbourly act than to sacrifice a
pair of leather gaiters in the cause of wads? A keeper friend treasures
many relics of the great days of the old squire--among them a curious
little mirror, the glass about the size of your little-finger nail, set
at the top of a tiny brass box, small enough to slip into the barrel of
a twenty-bore. The old squire would draw this mirror from his waistcoat
pocket before the first charge was poured into the muzzle of his gun,
dropping it glass upwards down each barrel in turn, so that he could
see by the reflected light if they were well cleaned and polished.
* * * * *