242 The Rabbit Battue. 



he had been sat upon ! I am not a prejudiced man, and I believe 

 that just as good a heart can beat under one sort of coat as another, 

 but I do like to see a man's dress fitted for his occupation. I must 

 confess to a leaning towards the old sporting dress of some twenty- 

 five years since, and I can hardly fancy a greater burlesque than to 

 see the burly form and features of my old friend Mr. Johnson disfi- 

 gured in a pork-pie hat, knickerbockers, red stockings and mous- 

 taches. 



But we have still two hours' more work before us, and we again 

 form in line. The afternoon's shooting much resembles that of the 

 morning, save that the men's voices are a little louder, and the guns 

 seem to go a little quicker. By four we have beaten back to the 

 gate, where we began in the morning, by the side of which all the 

 dead rabbits are collected. We have had a very good day's sport, 

 about fifty-seven dozen rabbits and three and a half couple of cocks, 

 Mr. Johnson scored the highest eighty- two rabbits and two cocks, 

 out of eighty-seven shots. The seven best men average about sixty 

 each, and no man scores less than a dozen. Each man takes a couple 

 or so of rabbits home with him (for the missus, if he has one) -, the 

 under-keepers are left behind to paunch the remainder ; and we all 

 walk back to Mr. Johnson's lodge just to " have a crust of bread 

 and cheese and a glass of ale," and to light a cigar to smoke on our 

 road home. 



Here the next day's fixture is planned, and as we ride home in 

 the deepening twilight of the chill February evening, we think what 

 a void this life would be if it was not for occasional little gatherings 

 like the present, and how foolish is the cuckoo cry of the leveller 

 that no one but the wealthy aristocrat can enjoy the sports of the 

 field! 



