MY BROTHER KEEPERS 213 
how so many of his birds had survived the wet 
summer. Assuming a tone of wondrous condescen- 
sion, this keeper among keepers was kind enough to 
give me a general outline of his methods. Directly 
he found all his partridges were being washed off 
their nests, he had told his ‘ chaps’ to collect all the 
eggs. (I noted with interest that he did not person- 
ally conduct the collection.) The eggs he ‘clapped’ 
under hens, hatched them, and reared ‘the lot.’ It 
was very simple. 
We all know, and, I think, have considerable faith 
in, the keeper who never will own to having swarms 
of birds ; when, however, he admits having ‘some’ 
birds, we know that there is indeed ‘something’ in 
store for us. There is, too, the perpetually pes- 
simistic keeper ; yet if you take his pessimism with 
the necessary grains of salt, you will not find him 
without a good show of game. But you must never 
forget that his birds suffer annually from the ‘ garpes 
—somethink cruel.’ 
