CHAPTER II 
ON A PARTRIDGE BEAT 
My first beat~The farmer—Enry the carter—His brother-in-law’s 
rabbit-shooting and mine—A novel puncture—A good ratting 
ferret—End of a poaching cat—Foxes—I catch egg-stealers— 
Gipsies—Egg trickery and gratuitous advice. 
My first regular keepering job was to look after 
partridge ground. I had the sole charge of it—and 
the sole responsibility ; so that whatever of blame 
or credit was to be had, I knew I should be liable 
to full measure. I was standing at one and the 
same time on the lowest and the topmost rungs 
of the game-keeping ladder. Possibly I should not 
have got the job at all if partridges then had been 
thought of as highly as they are now. 
The process of moving into my official residence 
produced no exciting incident. Probably the most 
valuable piece of furniture was my gun—certainly 
it was the most treasured. The item of that day 
of moving which has left the most vivid recollec- 
tion was the first meal in my game-keeping abode. 
There had been no time for midday indulgence, 
so I was treated to a meat tea, the chief dish of 
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