I ever heard of. What'll they do, _now_, I
wonder? Still we can't afford to go on muffing and missing _too_ long.
Bang! There goes another. And one of our birds, too, I'll be bound.
Hillo! by Jove, there's H-RT-NGT-N, sauntering this way, and by himself,
too. Something like a shot, _he_ is, and, if he'd join us--well, well,
we shall see. Looks, as usual, as though he didn't care a single tomtit
for things in general, and shooting in particular. Often lets a bird go
from sheer indifference, but seldom misses one from lack of skill. Sure
he can't be comfortable with _that_ lot--indeed, he owns it. And they
don't like his friendliness with us. Why can't he join us, and have done
with it?

_H-rt-ngt-n (approaching)._ Ah! there they are. And a jolly lot of
Sportsmen they look. Poor S-L-SB-RY, I pity him. Ought to have swept the
Moors. Birds plentiful, and lots of guns. But no shots. Doosed awkward.
Know what it is to shoot with a party one doesn't get on with. Our party
not the right sort now; awfully mixed--doesn't suit me a bit. G. has let
in too many outsiders. If they'd rally round me now, and let me pick
'em! But the picked rallyers are so precious few, and the rest, instead
of closing up to me, seem to be tailing off after GL-DST-NE, somehow,
confound 'em! One _Ch-mb-rl-n_ doesn't make a shooting party, even
with BR-GHT thrown in. Don't want to shoot against S-L-SB-RY, though,
I'm sure. Much rather drive the birds his way. But join him!--humph!

_S-l-sb-ry (hailing)._ Hillo, H-RT-NGT-N, old man, how are you? All
alone? Where's your party?

_H-rt-ngt-n._ Oh! they're along behind there, somewhere. How are _you_
getting on?

_S-l-sb-ry._ Oh, pre-e-t-ty well--considering. Hardly got our hands in
yet,--some of us (_significantly_). Birds a bit shy, too. But we shall
get among them presently, and then!----(_sotto voce_). I say old
fellow, why don't you join us--after lunch? _Capital_ shooting-ground,
but, ahem!--some of our fellows a _leetle_ wild, and one or two regular
cockneys. I wan't a real good gun or two badly, and then we should be
safe for a splendid bag. (_Aloud._) Come, old fellow, what do you say?

_H-rt-ngt-n._ Tha-a-nks. Awfully kind, I'm sure. But--ah--fact is, I'm
just waiting to see if my Party's coming up. [_Left waiting._

* * * * *

[Illustration: RAILWAY STATION PUZZLE. TO FIND A SEAT.]

* * * * *

RICHARD JEFFERIES.

LOVER of Na