1 68 WITHIN AN HOUR OF LONDON TOWN. 



dozen, for they were packed as close as they could 

 be, and had got their heads up. The distance the 

 slub was torn up was marvellous. But it was what 

 he did not get that grieved and worried him. The 

 sly old boy knew perfectly well that not one wounded 

 bird could he find when he floated out of the gully ; 

 but he would persist in believing that double the 

 quantity had been killed by that mighty spreader. 



To give an instance of his affection for her. 

 When he had a bad miss-fire at a lot of fowl, at 

 close quarters, and got twitted over it, he would 

 say, " She ain't jest right to-day." It was a diffi- 

 cult thing to listen to the recital of these wonderful 

 qualities without smiling, and I have known punched 

 heads result through doubting that spreading power 

 of hers. The way in which the old shooting- 

 machine was coddled up by her owner was curious. 

 No child of tender years and delicate constitution 

 could have had more care bestowed upon it. 



But this is only the light side of fowling; there 

 was a darker one. Many a sad accident has oc- 

 curred in those out-of-the-world localities, of which 

 the public has heard nothing. In spite of the great- 

 est care, misfortunes will take place at times. A 



