200 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 



to be the only Jones, I was the Jones in whom he 

 was so very much interested. 



Never shall I forget the keeper into whose charge 

 I was given when beginning real shooting. He 

 was a man who would now be looked upon as 

 eminently suitable for some rich, kindly old lady 

 who does not give shooting-parties, but simply 

 employs a keeper as part of her establishment. 

 He had no idea of driving partridges, but was not 

 a bad shot, and attended local shooting-matches to 

 compete for fat pigs with regularity, if not success. 

 He also appeared to be an authority on rook-shoot- 

 ing, possessing a reputation which I at that time 

 very much envied for being decidedly good at 

 rooks. From what I saw of his rook-shooting, he 

 maintained his reputation so long as the birds sat 

 on a tree. My brother and I, on every possible 

 occasion, would ask this old keeper how he was, not 

 so much from motives of anxiety for his health as 

 to hear his invariable reply, ' Nicely, thank you, 

 previous to a cold.' Another of his peculiarities 

 was a marked lack of density in the whiskers on the 

 right side of his face. We never tired of hearing 

 him relate the stirring episode during which the 

 whiskers were torn from his face, roots and all, by 

 a ' porcher.' 



Many old keepers are well-known characters ; 

 in fact, they are almost as much landmarks as 

 the trees and windmills. Of one old chap I have 



