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.