we are met with from nearly every quarter. The continued rains about the commencement of the hatching time were too much for the young ones, and the early bags, accordingly, do not threaten to be anything over weight. Nothing, however, spoils sport more than too many foxes a-foot; and so the philosopher will assure himself, as he thins the small coveys, or hunts up a stray bird with more than customary vigilance and determination "to have him."

After all, perhaps, this rumoured scarcity will not much affect the genuine sportsman. It is the gentleman who goes to business too much as a matter of business who will suffer here-the so many head a day that are to counter-balance keepers and manors, and leave something handsome for travelling expenses and household gods.

"It is not for ourselves we shoot,

'Tis to oblige our neighbours; And when they eat they may debate On the produce of our labours."

So sang the sportsman some hundred years ago "when a-shooting he did go. But obliging your neighbours now, alas! is going fast out of fashion before the demands of a Piccadilly dealer or an accommodating fishmonger. Still, on many estates now the supply is limited to home consumption. Year after year, and day after day, we are told of landlords giving up game-preserving, as another chance for the tenant farmer; it has become, in fact, one of the points in the charter demanded on the latter's behalf. Tenant-Right, Repeal of the Malt Tax, Re-adjustment of Tithes, and abolition of the Game Laws, are to set him straight again with the world; and more guns and less birds may, after all, make even partridge-shooting a little wilder work than it has ranked as for some time.

Connected with this matter-the pursuits of agriculture and the stock of game-we have received rather an alarming letter from “An Old Sportsman," who, it appears, lately honoured Mr. Mechi's celebrated model farm with a visit. Here, amongst many other wonderful inventions and experiments, he witnessed a trial of one of the new reaping machines. It was supposed to work well-so well and so close, indeed, as not to leave stubble enough to harbour a field mouse. Our correspondent, in fact, insists that it is not a reaping but a "shaving machine." Another application of the magic strop principle, that will not give a covey a handful of cover in a hundred of acres. As Mr. Swing, we believe, has not declared war against either Hussey or M'Cormick, the consequences here may be terrible to contemplate.

It is far from our wish to dishearten any gentleman Going to Business" on this once more recurring first of September. Our remarks rather should urge him, like the love-sick swain, to make the most of time and opportunity, and let every shot tell "as sure as a gun."

MY FIRST FIRST-OF-SEPTEMBER.

BY JUVENIS,

One of the greatest delights which a youth can have is the prospect of taking a certificate. He glories long beforehand in anticipation over the numbers of hares and partridges he intends to bag, and looks down upon such of his companions as are less fortunate than himself. Such, at least, were my feelings many years ago, when, not long after I had left school, my uncle gave me a certificate and the right of shooting over about one thousand acres of land: aye, and good shooting it was Another friend gave me a dog-not a very good one, it is true, but quite good enough as it turned out.

too.

I need hardly say how I looked forward to it weeks beforehand, and how slowly the time passed away until the day arrived. Very little sleep had I the night before; for whenever I did fall asleep, I was sure to awake out of a dream wherein I was slaughtering innumerable coveys of birds, to the sad reality that I was still idle in bed: the night, however, like all other nights, had an end, and the morning at last arrived. I was down stairs long before the usual time, and before the rest of the household was stirring; consequently no breakfast was ready. That, however, did not damp my ardour in the least. What cared I for eating while there was game to be shot at? I started, therefore, without breaking my fast or waking any one. It was a glorious morning, clear, bright, and warm, as the mornings at the close of summer frequently are.

Little knew I of shooting, much less of managing or training a dog. It was, therefore, not to be wondered at that in the first field I came to I let the dog range as he liked, whilst I took my own course. Little cared I which way the wind blew; for I thought, naturally enough, that the dog could find game as well down the wind as against it. As might be well supposed, therefore, he soon put up a large covey of birds far enough out of shot; that, however, was amply compensated by his chasing a hare, which by some fatality ran very near me, and which by some strange chance I was fortunate enough to kill: how, I knew not; all I knew was, that I pulled the trigger, and the hare rolled over dead a short distance from my feet. I had some faint recollection of putting the gun to my shoulder, but of that fact I was not quite certain. It may be well imagined how everjoyed I was now; already in anticipation I saw heaps of game lying at my feet, killed by my all-conquering skill; and my expectation, which was before very great, was now redoubled. I had before made up my mind to miss one shot or two, but now I thought even that was impossible. I put the hare into my pocket and started again its weight was nothing; or, at least, I felt it not. I should have been only too glad to have had many more to carry; but the Fates, alas! decreed otherwise; for somehow or other, it mattered not

where I pointed my gun, or how hard I pulled the trigger, no more game could I kill. Sometimes I put up the game, and sometimes the dog; but it mattered not which, for nothing could I hit. At length nine o'clock found me with the hare and nothing else. I began to think the fault must be in the powder or caps, and, but that shame prevented me, should have returned home; the gnawings of hunger, too, began to be felt, and I wished I had had some breakfast before starting. The day, too, began to be very warm, as I found to my cost; but I still strove manfully on, determined to retrieve my ill fortune before I returned. It was of no use, however; ten o'clock came, and with it no better success, although I had shot until I was tired of hearing the report of my gun. Some faint suspicion now began to dawn upon my mind that my want of success was owing to my want of skill. At last, faint and tired, I thought of putting the best face on the matter and boldly going home. The hare, too, was now an intolerable burden, and I almost regretted shooting it. The sun was intensely hot, and the perspiration streamed down my face. Just, however, when I was despairing of success, and thinking the matter quite hopeless, the dog put up a covey of " chickens," which scattered themselves over an adjoining turnip-field, the tops of which were as high as my knees. my hopes were now renewed, and all my ill-luck forgotten: now I thought I would bag some of them if possible. The dog was by this time very steady; in fact, he would scarcely leave my heels, and then it was only to put a covey of birds or to chase a hare, owing I suppose, to fatigue, the heat of the day, or disgust at my muffishness. I marked the birds down very accurately, and so got them all up one by one, cach of which was saluted in turn with both barrels of my gun: all in vain, however; they would not be killed. The last bird was put up, fired at, and missed. He, however, settled again not far from me, in an adjoining hedgerow. I saluted him a second time with both barrels, with no better success; but as he again flew only a short distance, I tried again, and this time I was fortunate enough to get it. My dog rushed in and secured it long before I could get up, and I received the bird in a very mangled condition. It was now twelve o'clock, and I was by this time half dead with fatigue and the heat of the day; the excitement which had hitherto borne me up now failed, and at length, considerably crestfallen, I turned homewards, determined to practise well before I again attempted to shoot partridges.

All

I reached home about one o'clock, more dead than alive, having walked for seven hours without anything to eat; nor could I eat anything when I did reach home: however, I swallowed three or four cups of tea, which considerably revived me; though I stirred very little the rest of the day, as may be well imagined.

I have spent many First-of-Septembers since then in shooting, and I have bagged great quantities of game; but I question if I can look back to them with the same relish of enjoyment as I can to this, my first First of September. I have never, since then, shot game with the same feeling of delight as I shot my first hare and partridge, nor have I ever felt the same feverish excitement in the pursuit of it.

Let me here warn all young sportsmen, before they attempt to shoot partridges, to practise well at larks, pigeons, or anything they can get at. They ought, also, to go out first with an old sportsman, to see how

a dog ought to be managed, which way he ought to hunt, and in what manner a field ought to be beaten. He should remember always to beat against the wind if possible, as the game cannot hear him, and the dog can find it better, as the wind blows the scent to him. If the weather is hot and dry, he ought to start very early in the morning, before the sun has much power; for there is no scent on a hot day, when the dew is off the ground. Be sure and take your time in hunting for game; and it is still more desirable not to hurry your dog, as you will get him into a careless method of hunting by walking too fast for him. A young dog is the best for a young sportsman, for an old dog always expects to have game killed to him; failing which, he turns sulky, refuses to work, and is certain to misbehave himself; whereas, a young dog, which has been not yet shot to, does not know that the game ought to be killed-it is enough for him to find it. He always hunts willingly in good sport or bad; and as the sportsman improves in shooting he improves in his behaviour, until at length both become perfect together. Above all things, chastise him as sparingly as possible: do not flog him for the first fault; and if he really requires the whip, remember the motto

"Sublimi flagello tange semel."

Be firm with him, but mild; never overlook a fault, and yet do not punish him severely if you once break your dog's spirit you have spoilt him, and he will thenceforth be good for nothing.

:

The best way to take aim is to point the gun as quickly as possible at the object you wish to kill, and then take steady aim: but time and practice are the best remedies for bad shooting; a good nerve and a quick eye will be sure in time to make you a good shot. At all events, any young sportsman who has very ill success, will have the consolation of knowing that he is not the first person who is so unfortunate, and that there has been one person in the world, who, out of about sixty shots, only killed two head of game. Nor was this the only occasion of my bad shooting; for I have frequently, in the same year, missed so many shots in a day, that I have at last refused to shoot at the birds at all, even when they rose close to my feet, as I knew I should only miss again. My only wonder now is that I persevered in it at all, and did not give it up in disgust.

G. B.

A CALM

DAY AT COWES.

BY AN IDLE MAN.

0-h! but it was slow!

"All serene!"

I was'nt very well-did'nt seem to care about my dinner, nor what I had with it, or after it; felt London was hot and Cremorne low; did'nt know what to do or how to do it; made sure I was going to be ill, and, like the learned vet., wanted a cure for an unknown disease.

The doctor said I wanted excitement !

Good idea that, certainly. A man may want excitement, just as he may want money; but the question is, where the deuce is he to get it? Very well-I wanted excitement; or novelty, as the doctor put it again in a milder form-change of scene, and so on. Do something you never did before-go up Mont Blanc, or in a balloon; or try and kill a blackcock, or a Kaffir; or do something or other to bring out your energy. But unfortunately I'm an idle man; and even excitement must be had

on easier terms.

Strange to say, though an idle man I'm not a yachting man-at least, I was'nt till this week. I had never seen a yacht race-or a match, as I think it is more properly termed—and so my medical friend said it was the very thing for me. Of course I had seen the yachts often enough, but I had no idea of the excitement when they were sailing one against another; and as novelty was my recipe, here I had it.

It rained, and thundered, and lightened (if there is such a word), all the way from the Waterloo Station to Southsea, to the terrible dismay of an elderly lady, who registered every flash with a groan, and, as I took it, to the (assumed) annoyance of a nautical-looking gentleman in brass-buttons. Some of the yachts, it seems, were running through this-my misfortune being to miss the first day; the next Wednesday, too, was a bye-day, so that I should get no excitement after all till the Thursday.

Lord Frederick-the life and soul of Portsmouth-was'nt at home, but they have the Highlanders there instead of him-the finest set of men I have ever seen, and the politest. One good-looking, clean-limbed giant, who was on guard, begged my pardon as he asked me to get off a gun where I had discovered a resting-place. It was'nt allowed, he said, though I saw it evidently pained him to remove a gentleman so comfortably contemplative. Once off the gun, the easiest place seemed aboard a Southampton boat, which warranted to take you right through the squadron; and very pretty they looked, lolling about here and there with the most delightful listlessness. On an off-day, as far as I could observe, the great thing is going aboard and going ashore- vice versa, as often as you like; but that's the cream of it. The picked men of the Daffydowndilly-four very "smart" fellows, of course-come in for you; and the owner of the Daffydowndilly, with his friend, or his wife, or whoever else it may happen to be, go aboard; while everybody on