270 A GAMEKEEPER'S NOTE-BOOK 



A wise pheasant would go abroad before the middle of 

 November. He would leave the fallen beechmast for 



the pigeons, and turn a deaf ear to the per- 

 Phea-' 7F suasive whistling of the maize-laden keeper. 

 Doomsday Since the issue of his death-warrant on 



October 1, the pheasant has fared well 

 he has never known the want of a hearty breakfast. 

 But sooner or later comes a morning when he must 

 breakfast on the remnants of a last good supper. If 

 he wonders why, he never thinks he has been denied 

 his food because a big breakfast is not good to fly on, 

 because a full crop will lessen his value in the eyes of 

 the game-dealer, and because it is intended that he 

 shall fly high, and give a sporting shot. So he is 

 kept short, like a pig whose time has come to be made 

 into pork. But no doubt even his short life has 

 been worth the living. 



We have a story of a retriever who was forced to fore- 

 go breakfast on the morning of a shoot. Retrievers, 



as they grow old, often grow cunning, and 

 The we saw this one getting the better of his 



Retriever mas ter in a novel and drastic way. The old 



dog had grown fat, and somebody com- 

 plained that he was inclined to be lazy in his 

 work. It was decided that he had too much to eat, 

 and it was to improve his activity during a day's 

 partridge driving that his master kept him without 

 breakfast, usually a heavy meal. There was a cold 



