458 THE KEEPER'S BOOK 



something big and something very much advertised 

 and above the table. We began to tip porters when 

 we found that they had to deal with very heavy luggage, 

 or when they ran for our cabs, or were in any way 

 particularly smart ; now we tip them as a matter of 

 course. A tip was, and ought to be now, a recognition 

 of special service. We tip the valet because he looks 

 after our clothes, and we tip the gamekeeper, not for 

 having a fine stock of hand-reared pheasants, but 

 because he cleans our guns, or holds them as we get over 

 fences, or helps us at the luncheon hour. If every man 

 remembered this fact, tipping would come back again 

 to that level of moderation which seems not only 

 desirable but necessary. 



As we have said, it is no pleasant task to write on 

 this subject. A charge of meanness is abhorrent to 

 every Briton, and more so to every sportsmen of the 

 race, and in the long-run it is better to give too much 

 than too little. But let not our argument be interpreted 

 as a subtle apology for meanness. There are hundreds 

 of first-class keepers who deserve every farthing they 

 get, and there are no tips that are given with greater 

 delight than the tips to the keepers who have shown 

 birds flying high and strong, who have worked their 

 beaters or their dogs to the satisfaction of everybody, 

 and to the advantage of the bag, who combine, in all 

 they do, skill with courtesy and energy with patience, 

 who present our guns every morning as clean as the 

 day they left the gunmaker. Especially do we 



