494 
THY WILL BE DONE. 
to a rail-fence, when I aimed the full length of the rail 
ahead of him, this being nearly twelve feet.” 
The shooting of Bob White demands such 
quick action in handling the gun, and such 
long tramps to discover his retreats, that I 
would advise light guns for his pursuit. A 
pound more in weight will be felt in the after- 
noon of a long day’s hunt, and the rapidity 
and ease with which a light and short gun 
can be handled, makes it very efficient in snap- 
shooting in covert. A twelve-gauge seven- 
pound gun, of twenty-eight-inch barrels, car- 
rying one ounce of No. 8 shot and three 
drams of powder, or a sixteen-gauge of six 
pounds weight and twenty-six-inch barrels, 
charged with seventh-eighths of an ounce of 
shot and two and three-quarter drams of pow- 
der, is to my liking in this most enjoyable of 
field sports ; in which occupation may next 
season find you, my sportsman reader, when, 
“Full of the expected sport, your heart beats high 
As, with impatient steps, you haste to reach 
The stubbles where the scattered grain affords 
A sweet repast to the yet heedless game. 
Near yonder hedge-row where high grass and ferns 
The secret hollow shade, your pointers stand. 
How beautiful they look ! With outstretched tails. 
With heads immovable and eyes fast fixed. 
One fore-leg raised and bent, the other firm. 
Advanced forward, presses on the ground.” 
'FHY WII.L BE DONE. 
Blow on, fierce tempest, blow ! 
Pour down thy drenching rain. 
Flash thy red lightning’s glow. 
O’er trembling land and main, — 
I, but an humble lily of the field, 
Resistless to thy swinging furies yield. 
Let without pause or stay 
All bonds and fetters burst, 
Wild winds and torrents sway. 
Wreak on my head their worst! 
What though they snap and drown 
Blossom and branch and root, 
Wither and blast far down 
Fair bud and tender shoot, — 
From my crushed, broken heart may still rise up, 
Like incense from a shivered golden cup, 
A last faint breath to Heaven, 
Left without star or sun, — 
He took what He had given, 
Thy will, my God, be done! 
Stuart Sterne. 
