CHAPTER XVIII 
ODDS AND ENDS 
High-grade nobility—The elusiveness of cartridge-bags—Rabbits as 
medicine — Shooting accidents — Lady shooters — What is a 
‘reared’ pheasant ?—Are keepers good shots?—A cat and a 
rabbit—A keeper’s feat—A very popular fallacy—Keepers and 
poison—Artfulness of rabbits—Ferrets—Mammoth nests—Moles 
and nests—Wild honey—A reward—‘ Coom to daddy !’ 
THERE was always a difficulty in addressing lordly 
persons, and I am afraid I never properly mastered 
the correct compromise between the devotional and 
barristerial ‘my lord.’ I called my first marquis 
‘sir,’ after giving myself a special course of training 
in saying ‘m’ lord.’ However, I dare say he 
appreciated it by way of a change. Another 
incident of my contact with high-grade nobility 
was when I met a lord on his own estate and 
mistook him for his keeper; he was going about 
with his breeches unbuttoned below the knee and 
no gaiters. At a cub-hunting meet I got into 
conversation with a duke, thinking that he was a 
farmer. 
It was at a millionaire’s partridge-drive that I 
witnessed a terrible shooting fiasco. It was the 
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