SS. PATRICK AND PARTRIDGE
"Now at the birds, me boy, let dhrive!"
Says Mike, exhorting Dan.
"That's how we'll keep the game alive,
By killing all we can!"
Damaged Goods.—Sportsman (invited to help shoot some bucks in Mr. Meanman's park, and has just knocked one over). "By Jove! what a lovely head! You must let me have that for mounting."
Mr. Meanman (frightfully indignant). "What! cut his head off! Why, man, it would ruin the sale of the carcase!"
UNNECESSARY QUESTIONS.
Lady (with gun). "Am I holding the thing right?"
Sportsman (to Snobson, who hasn't brought down a single bird all day). "Do you know Lord Peckham?"
Snobson. "Oh dear, yes; I've often shot at his house."
Sportsman. "Ever hit it?"
Renting a well-stocked moor
A shooting party
A Zoological Conundrum.—Intending Tenant (to Lord Battusnatch's Head Keeper). And how about the birds? Are they plentiful, Gaskins?
Gaskins. Well, sir, if the foxes of our two neighbours was able to lay pheasants' eggs, I should say there'd be no better shooting south o' the Trent.
Sad Fatality to one of a Shooting Party on the Moors.—On returning home, after a most successful day's sport, just as he entered the garden he was taken from life by a snap-shot.
A Blank Day.—First Friend. "The birds are terribly wild to-day."
Second Friend. "Not half so wild as our host will be, if it keeps on like this."
At a Dog-Show.—First Fancier. That's a well-bred terrier of yours, Bill.
Second Fancier. And so he ought to be. Didn't the Princess of Wales own his great grand-aunt!
Choke bore
Birds were strong