PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 104.
January 21, 1893.
CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
THE KEEPER.
(With an Excursus on Beaters.)
Of the many varieties of keeper, I propose, at present, to consideronly the average sort of keeper, who looks after a shooting, comprisingpartridges, pheasants, hares, and rabbits, in an English county. Nowit is to be observed that your ordinary keeper is not a conversationalanimal. He has, as a rule, too much to do to waste time in unnecessarytalk. To begin with, he has to control his staff, the menand boys who walk in line with you through the root-fields, or beatthe coverts for pheasants. That might seem at first sight to be aneasy business, but it is actually one of the most difficult in the world.For thorough perverse stupidity, you will not easily match theautochthonous beater. Watch him as he trudges along, slow, expressionless,clod-resembling, lethargic, and say how you would liketo be the chief of such an army. He is always getting out of line,pressing forward unduly, or hanging back too much, and the loudvoice of the keeper makes the woods resound with remonstrance,entreaty, and blame, hurled athis bovine head. After lunch, itis true, the beater wakes up fora little. Then shall you hearWilliam exchanging confidencesfrom one end of the line to theother with Jarge, while the startledpheasant rises too soon and goesback, to the despair of the keeperand the guns. Then, too, are heardthe shouts of laughter which greetthe appearance of a rabbit, and theair is thick with the sticks thatthe joyous, beery beaters fling atthe scurrying form of their hereditaryfoe. It is marvellous to notewith what a venomous hatred thebeater regards the bunny. Pheasantor partridge he is careless of;even the hare is, in comparison, athing of nought, but let him onceset eyes on a rabbit, and his wholebeing seems to change. His eyeabsolutely flashes, his chest heaveswith excitement beneath the ancientpiece of sacking that protectshis form from thorns. If the rabbitfalls to the shot, he yells withexultation; if it be missed, an expressionof morose and gloomy disappointmentsettles on his face, aswho should say, "Things are playedout; the world is worthless!"
On their Beat.
All these characteristics are thekeeper's despair; though, to besure, he has staunch lieutenants inhis under-keepers; and towardsthe end of the day he can alwayscount on two sympathising allies inthe postman and the policeman.These two never fail to come outin the afternoon to join the beaters.It is amusing to watch thedemeanour of the beaters in the policeman's presence. Some of them,it is possible, have been immeshed by the law, and have made theconstable's acquaintance in his professional capacity. Others areconscious of undiscovered peccadilloes, or they feel that on somefuture day they may be led to transgress rules, of which the policemanis the sturdy embodiment. None of them is, therefore, quite athis best in the policeman's presence. Their attitude may bedescribed as one of uneasy familiarity, bursting here and there intojocular nervousness, but never quite attaining the rollicking point.You may sometimes take advantage of this feeling to let off a jokeon a beater. Select a stout, plethoric one, and say to him, "Mind