THE CABBION CBOW IN THE BALANCE 37 



that season people who hve in the vicinity of the 

 park are startled each morning by the sound of 

 firing, as at the covert side. The sub-ranger and 

 his friends and underlings are enjoying their big 

 annual shoot. And there is no reason why they 

 should not have this sport, if it pleases them, 

 and if by this means the object sought could 

 be obtained. But it is not obtained, as anyone 

 may see for himself; and it also seems a trifle 

 ridiculous that any man can find sport in 

 shooting birds accustomed to walk about among 

 people's legs and feed out of little children's 

 hands. 



Once upon a time, in a distant country, I 

 came with a companion to a small farmhouse. 

 We were very much in want of a meal, but no 

 person was about, and the larder was empty, 

 and so we determined to kill and broil a chicken 

 for ourselves. On our making certain chuckling 

 noises, which domestic birds understand, a 

 number of fowls scattered about near the place 

 rushed up to us, expecting to be fed. We made 

 choice of a very tall cockerel for our breakfast ; 

 so tall was this young bird on his long, bright 

 yellow stilt-like shanks that he towered head 

 and neck above his fellows. My companion, 



