SHOOTING THE PHEASANT 



the great railways, and the famous lines of ocean 

 steamships, or maintains the thousand industrial 

 enterprises over which the Union Jack floats by land 

 and sea, will come back, for the goal of his ambition, 

 for the reward of his toil, to a home of his own in 

 the lovely English country. 



He will want, let us hope, for many a long year to 

 come, all the familiar sweets and accessories of opu- 

 lent country life. As he stands at his window, with 

 all the luxuries of modern civilisation under his roof, 

 and the slanting rays of the winter sun lighting the 

 purple tree trunks and the grey-green pastures of the 

 homelike landscape before him, he will spy our friend 

 the cock pheasant, gently wandering round for beech 

 mast and acorns, and recognise in him the last and 

 not the least expression of the comfort and plenty 

 which is the reward of the successful man. 



He will tend him with care, shoot him with the 

 respect due to his ancestry and power of wing, and eat 

 him with the pride of possession and gratitude for 

 the good things of this life. 



