n country, while Craven preferred
remaining in the plantations. Still, old John's company was a comfort to
me, and when the first bird was descried, I made a capital set at it.
Craven took back his gun; but while he was looking in the wrong pocket
for the right shot, John brought down the partridge.

"A fine bird," said Craven. "If it had not been for this awkward button,
I should have had him."

"You'll soon have another opportunity," said John; "suppose you get
loaded first."

Craven loaded; but something else was wrong about his contrivances, and
before he was ready, John had bagged the pheasant. At last Craven got a
shot, and missed it. He said it was John's fault for standing in the way
of his seeing me.

"Well, I shan't be in the way any longer," said John; "for I was to go
back to my work if I was not wanted, after having shown you the
plantations. So good morning, master, and good luck next time."

The next time, and the next, and the next, no better success. Bird after
bird rose, and flew away before our noses, as if in sheer ridicule of
such idle popping, till I felt myself degraded in the eyes of the very
partridges. Half the morning we passed in this way, wasting time and
temper, powder and shot; and the birds, as I well knew, despising us for
missing them, till my patience was quite exhausted, and I longed to go
home. Still, I remembered Lily's parting injunctions, and resolved to be
game to the last myself, even if we were to have no other game that day.
I also reflected that no one was born with a gun in his hand, and that
Craven might not have had opportunity of acquiring dexterity; that there
was a beginning to everything, and that it was the business of the more
experienced to help the ignorant. So I continued to be as useful to him
as I possibly could.

Suddenly, after a particularly provoking miss, Craven exclaimed: "It is
all your fault, you stupid dog; you never turn the bird out where one
expects it. If you knew your business, I could have bagged dozens."

Highly affronted, I now felt that I had borne enough, and that it was
hopeless to attempt being of use to a creature as unjust and ungrateful
as he was ignorant and conceited. I, therefore, turned round, and in a
quiet but dignified and decided manner took my way towards home. Craven
called, whistled, shouted, but I took no notice. I was too much
disgusted to have anything more to do with him; and I never turned my
head nor slackened my