s, and out with a noisy flutter burst two birds
under Forester's nose. Bang! bang!

"The first shot too quick, altogether," muttered Archer; "Ay, he has
missed one; mark it, Tim--there he goes down in the corn, by jingo--
you've got that bird, Frank! That's well! Hold up, Shot"--another point
within five yards. "Look out again, Frank."

But this time vainly did Tim poke, and thrash, and peer into the bushes
--yet still Shot stood, stiff as a marble statue--then Chase drew up and
snuffed about, and pushed his head and forelegs into the matted briers,
and thereupon a muzzling noise ensued, and forthwith out he came,
mouthing a dead bird, warm still, and bleeding from the neck and breast.

"Frank, he has got my bird--and shot, just as I told you, through the
neck and near the great wing joint--good dog! good dog!"

"The devil!"

"Yes, the devil! but look out man, here is yet one more point;" and this
time ten or twelve birds flushed upon Archer's side; he slew, as usual,
his brace, and as they crossed, at long distance, Frank knocked down one
more--the rest flew to the corn-field.

In the middle of the buckwheat they flushed another, and, in the rye,
another bevy, both of which crossed the stream, and settled down among
the alders. They reached the corn-field, and picked up their birds
there, quite as fast as Frank himself desired--three ruffed grouse they
had bagged, and four rabbits, in a small dingle full of thorns, before
they reached the corn; and just as the tin horns were sounding for noon
and dinner from many a neighboring farm, they bagged their thirty-fourth
quail. At the same moment, the rattle of a distant wagon on the hard
road, and a loud cheer replying to the last shot, announced the
Commodore; who pulled up at the tavern door just as they crossed the
stepping-stones, having made a right good morning's work, with a dead
certainty of better sport in the afternoon, since they had marked two
untouched bevies, thirty-five birds at least, beside some ten or twelve
more stragglers into the alder brakes, which Harry knew to hold--
moreover, thirty woodcock, as he said, at the fewest.

"Well! Harry," exclaimed Frank, as he set down his gun, and sat down to
the table, "I must for once knock under--your practice has borne out
your precepts."

THE WOODCOCK

Luncheon was soon discussed, a noble cold quail pie and a spiced round
of beef, which formed the most essential parts thereof, displaying in
their rapi