Wing vs. Ground Shooting. 215 



could see the bird go whirring away with 

 no part of him blasted. 



Later in the season I used to set twitch- 

 ups for the rabbits, and steel-traps for 

 muskrats, and snares for the partridges. 

 How anxiously and how often I would visit 

 those snares, and every time that I ap- 

 proached them, with bated breath I peered 

 through the bushes to see if there was 

 "one in." When from a distance, part of 

 the snare fence could be seen all knocked 

 out of shape and the dried leaves scat- 

 tered about in confusion, I would eagerly 

 jump to the dead partridge that lay in 

 their midst, and pulling from his neck the 

 coil he could not shuffle off, I would take 

 the bird in my lap and stroke his feathers 

 one by one, spread his feet out in my 

 hand, and rub his soft breast against my 

 cheek. It seemed to be too good to be 

 true ; life was overflowing with happiness. 

 The robins and red squirrels and other 

 standard boys' game would fade into in- 

 significance for the time being, and the 

 partridge brought a pleasure keener than 

 some mortals seem to experience. 



