DRIVING 131 



and they are gone. Involuntarily you look at your 

 neighbour, a man there is no deceiving, for you know 

 you were caught napping, and ought to have killed 

 one of those in front of you, and the little half- 

 sarcastic glance out of the corner of his right eye, 

 though he never moves his head, tells you he saw it 

 all. ' Over, gentlemen Over the right ! ' is now the 

 cry, and with a whirr that is almost a roar a big lot 

 breaks all over the fence to your right and in front. 

 Now thoroughly awake, you kill three neatly, quickly 

 followed by a smart right and left one in front and 

 one behind at a brace that come straight at you, 

 immediately followed by misses with both barrels at 

 one hanging along the fence and inclined to go back 

 over the beaters. You strike him underneath with 

 the second, he winces, rises a little, and just as he 

 seems to turn is crumpled up dead by the professor 

 on your left, a beautiful long cross shot, and you are 

 fain to touch your hat and acknowledge a clean wipe. 

 But now they come thick, and being just angry 

 enough, you settle into form ; for though your left 

 arm feels like iron, and your grip on the fore-end like 

 a vice, yet your actions are getting the looseness and 

 your style the freedom that good form, confidence, 

 and lots of shooting inspire, and you begin to ' play 

 the hose upon them ' properly. Here and there a 



