200 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 
to be the only Jones, I was ¢4e 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 thé 
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 
