ANECDOTES OF THE LATE MR. FOSTER 205 



Ireland, but a few remain to breed in England and 

 Scotland. The nest of the latter bird requires a fine- 

 nosed pointer to discover it during the breeding season, 

 though during the winter months the scent is so strong 

 that no ordinarily good-nosed dog can well miss it ; 

 and for its size, its scent is stronger than that of any 

 bird with which I am acquainted. 



I have before made reference to Mr. Foster, of the 

 Dublin Post-office, as having been a notoriously good 

 shot at snipe. It is now some thirty-five years since 

 I first saw him shoot, and I can truthfully assert that 

 during that period I have never seen him equalled for 

 cool calculation, often under the most disadvantageous 

 and trying circumstances. I have known him more 

 than once when bogged and going down actually kill 

 with his right and left, not only at birds which had 

 risen before him, but I have seen him under such 

 circumstances drop a bird with his right hand in front 

 of him, and then, while in the act of turning round to 

 throw himself backward to avoid being bogged, kill 

 another over his left shoulder, and, calling out to me 

 ' Catch !' throw me his gun, which I just managed to 

 secure. His carrier was near enough to him to have 

 caught it, and I wondered why he should have thrown 

 it to me, as I had my own gun, and so had only one 

 hand to catch with. I knew him to be a cool hand, 

 but began to think he had thrown it to me by reason 

 of his not being so self-composed as I had thought. 

 I remarked to him : ' Why on earth did you want to 

 play cricket with me ? You might have bulged the 

 barrels of your gun against mine !' ' Oh !' he replied, 

 ' I only wanted to see if you were as cool as you 

 appeared.' ' You must have had very considerable 



