and the Maritime Provinces. 205 



began to complain of being badly pounded. He said his shoulder was 

 lame. (From his Chesterfieldian nonchalance, I saw at once that he was 

 an Englishman.) 



" You fired many times " ? I suggested. 



" Yes, quite a few." 



He looked so cheerful all the while, however, that I at once credited 

 him in my mind with a very large bag. All the while I did not see any 

 birds lifted out of the wagon. Neither did the hostler who came to take 

 the horse to the stable. The gentleman dismounted then, and walked 

 toward the veranda, where my wife remained sitting, and the dog went 

 away with the wagon. I offered him an extra seat, and he sat down beside 

 me, readily. It was only natural, I thought to myself. A fellow feeling 

 makes us all congenial, " Birds of a feather," etc., " Two hearts that beat 

 as one," and all that sort of thing. Proverbs came pat and apropos. 



" What were you shooting at "? I ventured to ask. 



" Sandpeeps," he answered, ingenuously. 



Then the bottom fell out of all my conceit. It dropped with a thud, 

 like dough. 



" You must have seen a great number " ? I pursued, gloomily. 



" Yes, quite a few." 



" Get any " ? 



" I hardly think I hit a single one. I am not half a good shot, don't 

 you know." Then he added, after a pause: "I don 't think the gun 

 scattered enough." 



" Choked " ? I suggested. 



" Well, I am not so sure about that ; it was given to me for a good 

 gun." 



Evidently the term " choke" was new to him. He seemed to think it 

 an affection similar to strangulation. 



" Did the other fellow, who was shooting, get anything " ? 



" I believe he picked up one ; am not altogether sure." 



" Did you see any beach birds when you were out ? any graybacks, 

 snipe, willets, dowitchers, marlin, or dough-birds " ? 



" I don't think it ; I don't think I should have known them if I did." 



This was painfully candid. After a little he explained that he had 

 never done much gunning. Indeed, he did not remember of ever hitting 

 anything in his life. He was just down at the beach for a day off, and 

 thought he would try his hand, to pass time. 



" Could you tell me how many cartridges you fired " ? I asked, anx- 

 iously. 



He felt in his side pocket and counted with his fingers. 



" I hardly know," he said. " I have four left. I must have had fifty 

 in all." 



Then I drew a long breath. My mind experienced an indescribable 



