GUN STORIES 261 



was as thin as a wafer. "If ever you put an extra half- 

 charge of powder into that, Netherby," the Duke remarked, 

 " the gun will burst." This Sir James would not admit, so 

 a bet was made between them to decide the question. The 

 gun was carefully loaded with a charge and a half of 

 powder, placed on the ground, and discharged by the aid 

 of a string. It burst. 



The elder Sir James was a very little man, while his son 

 was a splendid fellow, 6 ft. 2 ins. in his stockings, and 

 muscular in proportion. One day the two were together 

 in Pall Mall, and an old friend accosted the baronet, when 

 Sir James introduced his son to him. " Why, Netherby," 

 the friend said, " your son could put you in his pocket." 

 " That may be," the father replied ; " but I can tell you he 

 is never out of mine." The tall young man afterwards 

 became First Lord of the Admiralty. 



Sir James was travelling one Sunday with George, sixth 

 Duke of Marlborough, then Marquis of Blandford, from 

 Glasgow to Lord Galloway's seat in Wigtownshire, when 

 their servants, as the carriage was passing over a moor, let 

 two pointers down. The dogs put up some partridges, and 

 the Marquis, forgetting he was in Scotland, seized his gun, 

 jumped out, and bagged a brace. The affair got wind, and 

 an outcry was made in the papers of how the son-in-law 

 of an exemplary Scotch peer (Lord Galloway) had not 

 only been shooting on the Sabbath, but had trespassed as 

 well. At Galloway House a consultation was held as to 

 what was best to be done, when a gentleman said, 

 " Partridges are more plentiful than marquises here, so I 

 should advise you to drive over to Kerrachtree, see Lady 

 Maxwell, and apologise." The Marquis took the advice, 

 receiving not only complete absolution, but carte blanche to 

 shoot over the estate whenever he chose. 



Some parsons, however, were not ashamed to indulge in 

 their favourite sport on the Sabbath, and were unscrupulous 

 poachers too. The Rev. William Butler, Rector of Frampton 

 in Dorsetshire, known to everyone as " Billy Butler," was 

 a divine of the port- wine school, plus an inordinate love of 

 sport, which he gratified without scruple, in and out of 

 season, utterly regardless of the responsibilities of his 



