42 PARTRIDGE DAY 



under its hospitable roof ; I find the boys all grown 

 into young men ; Jack is a captain of Hussars, Tom 

 is a subaltern in the Engineers, and Dick has just 

 left Christ Church. They are still as fond as ever 

 of Uncle Sam, though they occasionally venture so 

 far nowadays, as to offer an opinion adverse to his 

 on sporting matters, in which his word was formerly 

 supreme. As I descend to dinner, I pass Jack's 

 room. Hailed by its tenant, of course. I enter, 

 and find him occupied, with care above his years, in 

 the adjustment of his spotless white necktie, two of 

 which articles, crumpled too much in the operation, 

 are at present adorning the floor. " Think of shooting 

 to-morrow, Sam ? " (The title of " uncle " has been 

 dropped since Jack first stroked his downy upper lip 

 as a second lieutenant). I stand aghast. Here is a 

 young man, full of health and vigour, on the even- 

 ing of the 31st August, questioning a fellow-man, 

 who has just travelled some hundred miles and more 

 to Downcharge Hall, with his arm round his gun- 

 case, as to his intention of shooting on the 1st of 

 September. Entertaining a faint hope that, in the 

 exuberance of his youthful spirits, he may be chaff- 

 ing his old relative, I gasp out an affirmative, and, 

 obeying the summons of the dinner-bell, descend 

 the stairs. There is a large party of guests, but 

 dinner proceeds with but one allusion to the morrow 



