394 REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN. 



their wives or their women, in an attempt to do mis- 

 chief, until they collapse from the over-exertion, and 

 like the "Grandfather Smallweed" of " Boz," lie in- 

 animate until " shaken up " for another attempt at 

 abortive violence. 



Speaking of irritability on certain points, all men, 

 the best of men, are liable to that. A noble lord 

 was once riding on his shooting pony, with the gun 

 on the pommel of the saddle, when the fact of its 

 being cocked was noticed by a clergyman, who was 

 walking by his side. To the remark, " Your gun is 

 cocked, my lord!" the reply was, "D — n me, sir, 

 it's the first thing I do of a morning, in my dressing- 

 room ! " Again there is a story told of another noble 

 lord, who had invited a clergyman to shoot with him, 

 which is rather funny. Addressing his hearers, his 

 lordship said, " Now, gentlemen, mind, look out ! 

 there is a pied pheasant, the only one I have in the 

 cover we are going to beat, so mind you, look out!'" 

 He was not a man who permitted much question 

 on such occasions ; so, if any of the party had felt a 

 little at a loss as to how they were to understand this 

 caution to " look out for the pied pheasant," no one 

 dared ask for farther information, and the day's 

 shooting began. They had scarcely been in the cover 

 a minute, when bang went a gun, and the parson's 

 voice raised to a pitch of bold hilarity, by the suc- 

 cessful deed which was at once to raise him in his 

 lordship's favour, was heard crying out, " All right, 

 my lord, I've got him ! A beautiful bird ! An almost 

 white cock-pheasant with scarce a coloured feather 

 about him; here he is!" Saying which, the reverend 

 gentleman came skipping over the brambles, and 

 without seeing his mistake, deposited the sacred 



