456 
Forest and Stream 
^%uck? 
Well, not 
entirely — 
You see, 
I was using a FOX^^ 
“When I pulled the trigger, 
I knew where the shot was 
going. That FOX pattern 
never varies. And you know 
how hard it hits. 
“So my string wasn’t alto- 
gether due to luck. The birds 
are scarce, but my Fox helped 
me to make every shot 
count.” 
When the birds are scarce 
— when you have to wait 
minutes or even hours before 
you get a shot — that’s when 
you need a FOX. 
Stu rdy — dependable — accu- 
rate — hard-hitting — a FOX 
will help you to “make every 
shot count,” too. 
And those same FOX quali- 
ties will bring up your aver- 
age at the traps, where the 
“birds” are plentiful, but 
where a man’s gun must be 
able to take a lot of punish- 
ment. 
Our catalogue tells why the 
FOX is known as “The Finest 
Gun in the World.” A free 
copy is here for you — or you 
can get it from the nearest 
FOX dealer. 
A. H. FOX GUN COMPANY 
4674 N. 18 th St., PHILADELPHIA 
BIG AND LITTLE GUNS 
THE LARGE BORES OF CHERISHED MEMORY HAVE BEEN 
SUPPLANTED BY LIGHTER AND HANDIER WEAPONS 
By GAUCHO 
T was with extreme 
pleasure and gratitude 
that I read the two 
splendid articles on 
the Big and Little 
double shotguns that 
appeared in your mag- 
azine for January, 
1922. Seldom indeed 
does one find in the 
same issue of any 
sporting periodical 
two articles so admirably and truthfully 
written, so devoid of prejudice or ergo 
and so brimful of common sense, and it 
is relative to these articles that I would 
write, one being signed by Mr. Lew 
Whittemore on 28 gauge guns, and the 
other by Mr. C. S. Landis on our 
venerated and good old friend the erst- 
while idol of American sportsmen, the 
ten bore of cherished memory and 
glorious fame ! 
Beginning with the 28 gauge, of which 
I do not know as much as I might per- 
haps, I would like to state as follows : 
Twenty-seven years ago when I first 
began to investigate ' small-bore guns, 
giving them every practical test to which 
they could legitimately be subjected, I 
came to the conclusion after a great deal 
of game shooting with a 20-gauge, 6 lb. 
10 oz. gun, that for upland shooting I 
had found what in my opinion would 
prove to be a suitable fowling piece, and 
one that would meet every reasonable 
requirement under ordinary conditions. 
I claim absolutely no merit so far as re- 
lates to making a discovery, because my 
first intimation that a 20 gauge was a 
real gun, came from shooting blue-bill 
ducks with some of my Texas friends at 
Gum Hollow near Aransas Pass, Texas. 
The object lessons given me on that ex- 
tremely difficult style of shooting — birds 
coming fulltilt, high overhead — tough 
customers, able to carry plenty of shot, 
ofifering breast shot exclusively — was 
certainly affording anyone open to con- 
viction a first-class opportunity to learn. 
I took it so much to heart that I 
have done all in my power ever since to 
popularize the small-bore gun, and have 
made many converts by precept and ex- 
ample, until now the little guns are to 
be found, scattered all over the country, 
and what is more to the point, giving 
general satisfaction wherever they have 
been given a fair chance and decent 
treatment. 
A T the time of which I write, small- 
bore guns and rifles were regarded 
as nice little toys, good enough for boys 
and girls to pop away with, but as for 
men — for practical game shots — nothing 
less than a 12 was to be considered; in 
fact anyone whose temerity permitted 
him to advocate the use of any gun 
smaller than the 16 gauge, was politely 
but firmly classed as a faddist in whose 
headpiece the wheels went “round and 
round.” As was to be expected, deris- 
ion, and even calumny, came broadcast 
and abundant from men whose knowl- 
edge (mainly of the most meagre kind) 
was limited to the standard 12 gauge, or 
perhaps even the ten bore, depending on 
locality and environment, also on the 
kind of game mostly pursued. Then it 
was considered funny to ridicule the 
ideas of anyone whose rashness impelled 
him to advocate the use — much less to 
actually shoot — a small bore gun; critics 
forgetting in their zeal that the justly 
vaunted 12 gauge was a usurper, which 
had unmistakably sounded the death 
knell to the good old tens, which had 
for so many years been the recognized 
game and trap guns of the United 
States. 
The 20 gauge, being now firmly es- 
tablished as an upland gun, needs no 
further championing from me, as I have 
at different times put myself on record 
squarely and unequivocally as to its 
merits, and while it is no wild-fowl gun 
exclusively, yet for all kinds of duck 
shooting over decoys it will be found to 
answer very well if properly bored and 
loaded, and when weighing about 6)4 
lbs. can be shot with comfort and ease 
with its regular load of 2)4 drams of 
bulk nitro powder and % of an ounce 
of shot — -a formula worked out by the 
veteran Ballistic expert, Mr. Wm. M. 
Thomas, for me twenty-seven years ago, 
and used to this day, having found no 
better. 
Naturally enough if the advent of the 
handy little 20 bore caused a hubbub 
in the ranks of the dyed-in-the-wool 
wide bore advocates, the 28 gauge being 
eight sizes smaller, must inevitably come 
in for its full share of invective; not 
only that, but as happened to the 20 
gauge, a roar loud and long emitted 
frequently by men who knew absolutely 
nothing about those little guns beyond 
barking at them, following the example 
of the prowling dog whose sole object 
is to make a noise to announce his pres- 
ence, which otherwise would have been 
unknown and ignored. 
But since the truth will prevail in spite 
of prejudice and ignorance, we will al- 
low the little guns to stand on their 
own butt plates and speak in their snap- 
py little voices for themselves. 
O HOOTING some years ago in North 
Carolina with perhaps the finest up- 
land game shot this country has ever 
produced, the late James F. Jordan of 
Greensboro, N. C., I saw him day 
in and day out bag twenty or thirty 
Bob White quail, taking all shots pre- 
sented, doubles and singles, in thickets, 
in piney woods, anywhere, and very sel- 
dom miss one. It was a ten-to-one bet 
that he would bag his pair out of every 
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