FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS 105 



Keeper. Now then, keep up in line, you beaters. 

 Keep up, I tell 'ee. Bill Stokes, where be you a 

 goin' ? Hold hard, men ; forward all together. 

 Cuss me if all them birds ain't a gettin' away on 

 the right and never a shot fired at 'em. Surelie 

 his lordship's never gone and got Mr. Arthur to put 

 him there. Hold hard, all on ye ; hold hard. 



Eldest Son (outside covert). Father ! (silence). 

 Father ! ! (silence). Father ! ! ! 



Keeper. All them birds is gettin' away, Mr. 

 Arthur, and we shan't see 'em agin. 



Eldest Son. I told his lordship to go there, but 

 (in despair) I don't know where he's got to. (Catches 

 sight of a distant figure leaning against a stile, sketch- 

 book in hand.) Oh, there he is, miles away. I don't 

 know what to do with him. (Signals violently, and 

 at length attracts his father's attention, and causes 

 him to saunter to his post.) Now then, come on ; 

 don't let's lose any more time. 



(At the conclusion of the beat) 



Host. My dear boy, you shouldn't hurry 

 through these coverts at such a fearful pace ; you're 

 bound to lose a great number of birds. Take my 

 advice ; do it more slowly next time. 



