I may mention here, parenthentically, that it is by no means an uncommon thing in the Highlands of Scotland for young ladies to go to the hill with bag and gun, and I know many at this moment who are very excellent shots indeed.
“Well,” continued Willie, “I am astonished. In fact, I believe you could knock me down with a feather, or with a sledge-hammer anyhow. Shouldn’t wonder now if Miss M‘Crae mightn’t be a better shot than I am.”
“Have you had much experience?” asked Mackenzie.
“Oh, quite a deal!” answered Willie seriously—“in the ha’penny shooting-galleries, ye know. ‘Only a ha’penny a shot, and fire away;’ and ‘a great big cocoa-nut if ye rings the bell.’ I rung the bell once. It was before I took aim—the gun just went off by chance. But of course that is a mere detail; I got the great big cocoa-nut all the same, I have it in my study till this day, labelled, ‘Won at a shooting-match.’”
Maggie May and her father both laughed.
“But you’ve never been on the hill?”
“Oh, never near it.”
“Well, you must try not to shoot the dogs.”
“I’ll try hard.”
“Mine are a charming Gordon setter, who won’t range far away, and a curly retriever, as wise as many a Christian.”