as much as to say "it will not do," passed on: thus was the keeper done by his own stupidity. Had he left the pheasant alone, he would no doubt have captured his man, who was a notorious poacher: as it was, he could not meddle with him, as he never once left the foot-path, which was a public one.

As I have already observed, a partridge in January is an excellent bird if kept long enough; and the same may be said of the woodpigeon, the only draw-back to the latter being, that if the weather is very hard, they feed upon the turnip crop, which is apt to give their flesh an unpleasant taste. There is no bird so difficult to be approached as the wood-pigeon; and the only way to shoot them is to await their return from feeding, under the trees in which they roost: in this manner I have succeeded in bagging numbers. I once killed twentyfive at a shot on this occasion I saw upwards of one hundred feeding on a field of newly sown oats. This was in my young days, when I did not possess a musket of my own; but I supplied the deficiency by borrowing an old gun belonging to my father's bailiff (and which, by the way, was one of the best guns I ever shot with), and with it I stalked the birds, and killed the number I have mentioned on the ground.

I well recollect being so elated with my success in this my first essay, that I could not rest till I had bagged some real game, and that flying; and an opportunity soon presented itself in the shape of a handsome cock pheasant, which I saw feeding in all security, little dreaming of the longing for glory which existed in my young breast. Loading my old ally I walked to the place where I had last seen the pheasant, which rose on my approach: I fired, and to my great satisfaction down he came with a delightful plump; but oh! what was my consternation to find, upon going to the spot where he fell, that every trace of him had vanished; for two long hours or more did I continue to search for him, but not a feather, as I am aware of, did I ever see of him again from that day to this. I suppose he was only winged, and that he ran up the ditch into a wood close by, but as I had no dog I had not the means of recovering him. In those days pheasants in that part of the country were tolerably plentiful, though they were not preserved: now there is not one to every five miles. However, poachers in the present day being martyrs, we must not complain, the only fear being that when the game is all gone those gentry will take a fancy to our sheep and cattle, and discover they have a right to them what will my friend the country editor say to it then? perhaps in the event of it so happening "a fellow feeling will make us wondrous kind."

What a pity it is that country gentlemen will give way to the clamour which now prevails! Why should they? Those who support the recreations of a country squire still meet with respect and esteem, and this asrertion is coroborated by the complimentary testimonial which has just been presented to Mr. John Conyers, of Copthall, Essex. The following is a paragraph which I copy from the Illustrated London News, and make no apology for doing so, as I am certain the perusal of it will give the sportsman as much satisfaction as it gave me.

"Mr. John Conyers, of Copthall, Essex, is one of the few now left of that fine old race of English squires who, eschewing the follies and vanities of a city residence, have been content through a long life to maintain a hospitable house in the heart of their own rural property, to live and move in the midst of their own

tenantry, and to devote a handsome portion of their income to promote the health and pleasure, not only of their immediate friends and neighbours, but of all the country round. Mr. Conyers has been a master of foxhounds upwards of fiveand-forty years; and there is not a copse nor a wood within a day's ride of Copthall that has not echoed again and again to the cheery ring of the huntsman's horn, nor a blade of grass over many and many thousand acres that has not been swept by the swift feet of his staunch and dashing pack. Belonging to the good old school of country gentlemen, Squire Conyers has never been selfish in his enjoyments. A lively recollection of the sport derived in the course of so many years, from his well-appointed hunting establishment, of late induced the fox-hunting gentlemen of Essex, and indeed of England pretty generally, to enter into a subscription for the purpose of presenting him with a solid token of their regard, and a considerable fund was subscribed for that object."

I will add that the testimonial consisted of a silver group, designed by Mr. Cotteril, illustrative of an incident in the chase; the composition is good. We have the huntsman dismounted, tailing the fox, and at the same time sounding his horn, preliminary to throwing the dead fox to the baying and expecting pack below. One of the whips checks the impetuosity of the cager hounds, and looks to his own and the huntsman's horse; whilst the old squire, whose features and characteristic seat on horse-back are admirably and most felicitously portrayed, surveys the scene, and completes the composition of the group. Messrs. Garrard were the executors of this splendid piece of workmanship.

In the obituary of the journal from which I have made the foregoing extract I regret to see the name of the Hon. Thomas Kenyon. In him the "Road" had a staunch supporter, and a few years ago the coachmen and guards working out of Shrewsbury presented him with a piece of plate, as a testimony of their respect and esteem. He resided at Pradoe, near Shrewsbury, to which place he usually drove his team on market and other public days. On such occasions he was always willing to give a "lift" to those who were not provided with the means of locomotion, and I once was in his coach when he gave a "cast" to a soldier, who most ungraciously alighted, and without saying "thank you," walked off. Mr. Kenyon, or "his honour," as he was usually termed, called after him, "My friend, pray come back; I want to speak to you. When the man did so, his honour" very calmly said, "The next time a gentleman gives you a lift' I think it would be more civil if you were to say Thank you to him."

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"His honour" will long be regretted by the inhabitants of Shropshire, and indeed by every one who knew him; and the well-appointed drag and neat team will not again make its appearance, and be the admiration of all admirers of the "road."

I recollect Shrewsbury when it could boast of some of the best coaches in England. Often have I stood at the Lion to see the Hirondelle and Hibernia come up the High-street (I think it is called), punctual to a moment by "Shrewsbury clock." These coaches did the distance from Cheltenham to Liverpool, a hundred and thirty-five miles, in twelve hours and a half; and though they travelled at such speed, accidents rarely occurred to them; but then they were so well appointed that it was next to impossible an accident should happen. Again, there were the Shrewsbury Wonder and the Holyhead mail, both splendid coaches; the latter left London at eight o'clock at night, and arrived in Shrewsbury in sixteen hours and a half. They had first-rate men on both these coaches, and Mr. Taylor, of the Lion Hotel, horsed them admirably.

Coach proprietors made money in those days, and yet their expenses. were heavy; at all times the expense of horsing a coach is very great, and a proprietor's success depends upon the luck he has with his horses, the loss of one taking much of the gilt off the gingerbread. I was once travelling on the Bristol and Shrewsbury night mail, when a leader broke its leg short off just above the fetlock joint: the road where this happened was as smooth as a table, and the pace moderate. The poor beast went on many yards before we discovered what a serious injury it had sustained. The coachman gave orders for it immediately to be destroyed, which I believe was done.

Coach-horses do not last many years, yet there are exceptions to the rule. I know two horses which have been running in the same coach for upwards of twelve years, and they are still wonderfully fresh; but then they have been in good hands, and have not been knocked about as coach-horses usually are. The average duration of a horse at fast work is not above five years; this is a fearfully short time both for humanity's sake and the pocket of the proprietor.

It is said by many that railways have done more towards the relief of the horse than anything else; but here I must beg to differ from such an opinion, for though 'tis true fast coaches do not exist, omnibuses and short stages do, and they are notoriously the worse horsed vehicles in existence I speak not of London omnibuses, but of those running to the rail. Now how were (I say were, for such matters are almost a tale that is told) horses in the fast coaches treated, and what did they do? They were fed well and never stinted; and though the pace was fast, what distance did each run? why about five or seven miles, in fact a horse had hardly got his collar warm before he was at the end of his stage-to a horse in full condition it was nothing more than exercise.

The season of frost and snow being upon us, now is the time for the sportsman to turn his attention to the wild-fowl which will abound on such inland streams and soaks as remain unfrozen. On the rivers in Herefordshire I have had some excellent sport, and have frequently killed five or six couple of ducks in as many hours, to say nothing of snipes. Those streams are particularly well suited for stalking wild-fowl, as the water runs low in the banks, and the rivers form in their course so many angles.

In pursuit of ducks on a river it is always best to go up stream, as the birds rise down, which enables the gunner to get shots at their breasts, almost the only vunerable part, unless indeed he can break a wing. I have fired on the backs of these birds, and have absolutely heard the shots rattle against them, and yet they did not come down : sometimes, if hit in the breast, they will fly a long way before dropping, and in this case they are usually lost. If snow is falling the sportsman will find that to be in his favour, as it will prevent his footsteps being heard, and the ducks do not like to rise against falling snow. If it should have commenced to snow after the time they come on feed, so much the better, as they will not then have been prevented coming to the rivers.

Let the sportsman who wishes to kill ducks or other wildfowl start betimes in the morning, otherwise he may find some one (especially if he is in the vicinity of a town) has been before him. Every country town possesses its quantum of lawyers and lawyers clerks, who are invariably

what is termed sportsmen, and it would be very poor satisfaction to find, after having turned out of bed on a very cold morning, when the thermometer is below goodness knows what, that you have been promenading behind one of these gentry. I always made a point of being at the end of my beat by daylight, when I commenced beating up stream, and in this manner I always avoided a collision with other parties.

In hard weather, or when a thaw has just commenced (for ducks will not sit on ice having water on the surface), if the streams were not disturbed, wildfowl may be found on them all day, especially if the banks of the river are high or well shaded with bushes; but as it is ten to one that either a shepherd, or some boy, or old woman in search of sticks, if not a gunner, will disturb the birds, it is better to make sure by starting betimes in the morning; but should it be that nothing occurs to frighten them, no doubt they lie better late in the day than early in the morning. The truth is that ducks when they have once settled do not like to move, and I have frequently seen them sit so close that I have passed by, and have even struck the bushes before they would rise.

Teal always lie close, and if you hit one without killing it, ten to one it is if you get it to rise again: when they once have had their wings wet no moorhen will sit closer. A very slight blow will cause a teal to drop, and in this they are similar to the woodcock, who if you strike a feather at the end of his wing, will cry pecavi directly.

The wild duck is better for the table than the drake, but the latter looks best for a present: and the same may be observed as regards the pheasant; therefore, as everything in the present day is for the eye, send your friend the male birds, and keep the softer sex for your own eating. The little or jack snipe is far better than the large sort; yet the receiver of a present would, I have no doubt, think more of the latter, which are termed, in sporting phraseology, whole snipe.

There are no birds so teasing to the sportsman as the jack snipe, for they have a peculiar mode of dropping suddenly, just perhaps as the trigger is pulled, when your shot is, of course, needlessly expended, though to all appearance the bird fell to your gun; indeed so convinced have I been that I had killed one of these birds, that I have spent hours looking for it, and perhaps it would at last rise from under my feet, and fly off as merrily as before, when, after going a little distance, it would drop again in the same manner.

In beating for snipes it is always best to go first down wind, to walk up the wild ones, and then to beat up to find such as have lain close, by so doing you succeed in getting shots at their breasts; and you have also this advantage, that when on the wind they fly much more steady, and thus you get a more certain shot at them. Never mind what some tell you, but fire immediately that the birds rise: they then fly straight, but after a little time commence their twistings, which they continue till out of shot. I have heard persons say "If you wait patiently till the snipe has done twisting, he will then present an easy mark:" this I grant, with the addition that by the time he has finished his evolutions you will require a telescope to distinguish him. "Catch a snipe paying a turnpike gate," is an old saying; and catch him if you can after he has gone a certain distance, is equally applicable.

There are three sorts of snipe, the whole snipe, the jack snipe, and the solitary snipe-the latter is rarely met with, and it is much larger

than either of the two former. I once killed one, and a friend of mine did the same, and they are the only two of the species I ever have met with.

During a high wind is the best time to shoot snipes, as they then fly much steadier; after a white frost they never lie, but rise in wisps, which is a number together, before they can be approached sufficiently near to be within range of the gun. I never advocate the use of dust shot for these birds; for my own part I use cross shot for them as well as for every other game, with the exception of ducks, and I have always found it succeed better than any other.

I would advise my sporting brothers to be more solicitous about their powder than their shot; if it is bad the best shots will be unsuccessful, added to which, with bad powder a gun soon becomes foul; and this is a serious consideration, especially if the gun is in frequent use.

It here occurs to me to observe that a gun should never be cleaned at first with hot water; but always let it be spunged out with cold water previous to the application of hot. Also I would observe that no gun must be allowed to be put away unless it has been properly dried, and some oiled tow passed down the barrel; but though I advise the latter proceeding, I do not advocate the indiscriminate use of oil, which if too abundantly used chokes the nipple, and does an infinity of harm.

If a sportsman understands a gun, which he should do as a sportsman, his locks ought to be taken to pieces and well cleaned every now and then; but I would never advise they should be meddled with by any one not au fait at the matter. The lock is the vital part of a gun; if that is injured it is a very serious matter, and, in the event of being some distance from a gun-maker, difficult to rectify. The most economical plan in the end is to go at once to a good workman, and get him to see what is the matter, which he will do at once, and have it set to rights; but to take it to any tinker who professes to know something about a gun, is the worst plan possible, and will always end in disappointment, and recourse will at last be obliged to be had to the regular practitioner, and thus a double expense incurred.

Amongst country gunmakers many clever men may be found, and I have had work done by such persons as neatly as if it had been executed by a London artiste. The first gun I ever had was made by a provin cial maker of the name of Lloyd, at Leominster, in Herefordshire; and a better was never turned out, I must confess; perhaps the locks were not quite so excellent as those made by more celebrated makers; but that the gun killed well (an important desideratum it must be allowed) there was no doubt. I have had great pleasure in recommending Mr. Lloyd to many of my friends, and in several instances where my recommendation has been taken, he has, I understand, given much satisfaction.

If a countryman can do his work well, there is this advantage in employing him that his charges are lower than the London gunmakers, in justification of which class I must, however, observe, that they have to pay their journeymen very high wages, and without which they will not work, indeed with those wages they frequently will not work above two or three days in the week. Unfortunately it so happens that the best workmen in almost every trade are often the most abandoned; but owing to their cleverness the masters cannot afford to part with them: this the