THE SHOOTING SEASON. 49 



their shooting over many months. Now, the seaside season 

 has moved on, and numbers are by the beach at the time 

 when formerly they were in the woods. Then others go 

 abroad ; the country houses now advertised as ' to let ' are 

 almost innumerable. Time was when the local squire would 

 have thought it derogatory to his dignity to make a com- 

 modity of his ancient mansion ; now there seems quite a com- 

 petition to let, and absenteeism is a reality of English as well 

 as Irish country life. At least, such is the gamekeeper's 

 idea, and he finds a confirmation of it in the sudden rush, 

 as it were, made upon his preserves. Gentlemen who once 

 spent weeks at the great house, and were out with him every 

 day till he grew to understand the special kind of sport 

 which pleased them most, and could consequently give 

 them satisfaction, are now hardly arrived before they are 

 gone again. With all his desire to find them game he is 

 often puzzled, for game has its whims and fancies, and will 

 not accommodate itself to their convenience. 



Then the keeper thinks that shooting does not begin 

 so early as it once did. Partridges may be found in the 

 market on the morning of the glorious First of Septem- 

 ber ; but if you ask him how they get there, your reply is a 

 nod and a wink. Nobody gets up early enough in the 

 morning for that now : very often the first day passes by 

 without a single shot being fired. The eagerness for the 

 stubble and its joys is not so marked. This last season 

 the late harvest interfered very much with shooting ; you 



