Victims of Wire
Unfortunately the best stands for partridge-driving are often behind hedges flanked by telegraph-wires. This is specially unfortunate when the birds see the guns just before they pass beneath the wires. Up they go, and a whole covey may be cut to pieces at the moment when fingers were pulling triggers. Though a brace of birds fall dead at the sportman's feet, evidently neatly taken in front, to the sportsman this is not the same as a brace to his gun: he would prefer, indeed, a good old-fashioned miss.
Stoat or Weasel?
Many country people who ought to know better are hazy on the distinction between stoats and weasels. We can forgive the Cockney uncertainty of this sort, as we forgive him for calling rooks, and even starlings, crows. The countryman may well confuse crows and rooks; his safest plan when in doubt about a big black bird is to name him rook, for in most parts crows are now scarce to the point of extermination. But those who live in the country have as little excuse for speaking of stoats, when they should speak of weasels, as for mixing rabbits with hares. It is easier to tell a weasel from a stoat than a rabbit from a hare, if one is fairly close and has a clear view. A weasel is quite a third of the size of a stoat and a third of the weight: the males of both weasels and stoats are about twice the size of the females. But the outstanding distinction between stoat and weasel is the long, black-tufted tail of the stoat, and the short, unassuming tail of the weasel—no more conspicuous than a mole's tail.
"The Horrid Badger"
We have come across many curious cases of ignorance on these points. A countryman who had dwelt with stoats and weasels all his life, and had killed hundreds by trap and gun, yet had no idea of the true difference. Whichever he saw, or killed and hung up by a twisted twig, he determined to be stoat or weasel according to its size. Then we remember a lady who kept chickens, and suffered the loss of half a brood. She called in a passing keeper to settle the question of the thief. After waiting a while the keeper shot a weasel in the act of returning for another chicken. The lady of the chickens was overjoyed at this retribution, and presented the keeper with half a crown. Her words in making the presentation have been treasured by the keeper: "This," said she, "is for shooting the horrid badger."