A Sportsman at Large 155 



from start to finish ; wherein I established a personal record 

 thirty-seven pigeons straight; my next best being twenty- 

 nine at Mont Boron (Nice). 



To return to the International week, 1883. I had been 

 in excellent form of late and made a good start on the Monday 

 (Gun Club) by winning Third Prize in " The Paris Cup." 



The next day, at Hurlingham, I was well in the running 

 for the principal event, but just failed to gain a place. 



On the Wednesday (Gun Club again) I divided the pre- 

 liminary pool (even thirty yards), and scored nine birds in 

 the Cup. 



I continued to keep up an excellent average all the week, 

 so when it came to the great contest on the Saturday I was 

 quietly fancied by some of the most astute backers, and 

 substantially supported at 30 to I long odds from a horse- 

 racing point of view, but not so in a contest of the kind toward. 



I myself secured 300 to 10, and arranged with a friend 

 to lay 30 to 10 on me every time I went to the mark. 



There were seventy-four shooters, including most of the 

 Continental and American " cracks." The Cup was a most 

 beautiful specimen of the silversmith's art, and on it I cast 

 longing eyes. Whilst doing so, an Anglo-Cuban friend of 

 mine, Alfonzo Jiminez (afterwards Marquis di Granja), one 

 of the roundest, rosiest and j oiliest little sports as ever was, 

 handed me a sealed envelope, saying : 



" Here, Cockie, open this when the contest is over. It is 

 my prophecy of the result." 



I put it in my pocket and forgot all about it for the nonce. 



Then the first man on the list was called up by good Mr. 

 Turner, the scorer, whilst Arthur Badcock, our secretary, 

 took up his position as umpire. 



There was a sharp wind blowing right across the traps, 

 from right to left. This was just what I wanted. It suited 

 my swing and time to a tick ; for I had always put in my 

 best performances under such conditions, whereas the " left 

 to right " swing had invariably found me wanting. 



Whilst awaiting my turn, Tom Gambier, an old club friend 

 and highly astute sportsman, who had gathered unto himself 

 all there is to know about pigeon-shooting, drew me aside. 



