HARES AND RABBITS 143 



I have had a lot of fun, not necessarily at the 

 expense of rabbits, but of the people associated with 

 me in their pursuit. If you would meet people 

 shooting without a licence in their pocket, go to a 

 rabbit shoot. There is a story of a nobleman who, 

 with his two unlicensed sons, was trying to shoot 

 rabbits, when the local constable put in an appear- 

 ance. The keeper intimated the constable's arrival 

 to his master (who, besides being a nobleman, was 

 a magistrate). The nobleman said : * Oh er give 

 the man a couple of rabbits, and tell him to go.' 

 ' Very good, m'lord,' the keeper answered, ( but we 

 ain't shot none.' 



A would-be shooter of rabbits was complaining to 

 me that a rabbit he had killed, dead, had not been 

 picked up. Naturally my sympathy was aroused, 

 and I asked for details before making inquiry among 

 the beaters. ' He came tearing along at forty miles 

 an hour/ the shooter explained, ' and I let him have 

 it at about eight yards and a half. And I'm sure 

 he's dead, because I shot his front foot right off.' 

 I told him I hoped we should find the rabbit, and 

 perhaps its front foot. Another man gave me two 

 incidents on the same day. I heard afterwards that 

 he was a commercial traveller. At any rate, he 

 wore a navy blue Chesterfield top-coat (with a lovely 

 velvet collar) and a bowler, and his weapon appeared 

 to be of the presentation type. I found myself 

 posted in a ride on this man's right. Apart from 



