110 SHOOTING: 



' There were fourteen/ he knowingly observes, 

 ' But three of them I in this bag preserves, 

 A brace for Master's, one for your share, 

 And not a bad beginning this, I swear.' 



Whilst thus discoursing, as you journey on, 

 This vigilant assistant misses ' Don,' 

 His eager eyes around the field are cast, 

 The truant Pointer he espies at last ; 

 In a thick ruffet almost hid by green 

 He stands, his well form'd stern alone is seen ; 

 And in your countenance I now espy 

 An anxious wish to join his company ; 

 While Harry's shoulders will be doom'd to find 

 This time the game is of a weightier kind. 

 A strapping hare jumps up, both instant fire, 

 And o'er and o'er she rolls, as both desire. 

 Now, here again, I strongly must advise 

 That you a calm discretion exercise ; 



