A DAY'S ROEBUCK DRIVING 



You are there too, reader, but it is only your 

 "astral body," so it is not visible. 



An hour's drive, mostly through dim, dark fir 

 woods, where even the hoof-beats of the horses 

 seem muffled in the silence, brings us to the scene 

 of our operations. 



Here we find the head forester of the revier t 

 surrounded by his three satellites and a small army 

 of beaters. The latter are all men in walking up 

 partridges the majority of beaters are women but 

 it will be hard work for them to struggle through 

 the thick coverts, so the gentler sex would be out of 

 place to-day. 



Look at the forester he is a good example of 

 the Bohemian keeper. A tall, broad-shouldered 

 man, with a bronzed and sunburnt face, keen grey 

 eyes, and beard and hair plentifully streaked with 

 grey. He carries a horn slung over one shoulder, 

 and a hunting knife slung over the other, and a gun 

 is slung over his back. His long-stemmed pipe 

 sticks out of the pocket of his coat, the collar of 

 which is bright green ; and his hat is also green, and 

 is decorated with a tuft of blackcock's feathers. 



What strange types there are among the beaters ! 

 Do you see that little old white-haired, weak-kneed 

 man ? He is the keenest sportsman alive, and 

 enjoys a day's beating above all things. By trade 

 he is a tailor, and is also a red-hot republican, and 



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