GOOD SPORT.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XIV, Issue 3050, 12 August 1893, Page 3

GOOD SPORT.

An English sportsman, who was too much of a braggart to be good at anything else, was having a few days' shooting on the estate of a friend, and while out on the heather after the birds, found time to talk about his own prowess to the gamekeeper who accompanied him. " I've a keen eye, a steady akn, and when I fire, Sandy, there's death somewhere ahead," said the sure shot, modestly. "In that case I'll raak' a point aye to keep ahint ye," remarked the gamekeeper, cautiously, falling back a pace or two. "Oh you needn't be alarmed, Sandy, I merely meant that I never miss anything." " Wcel, I hope yell try and miss the dugs while ye're wi' me, for the maister wud tak' my heid aff if anything went wrang wi' them.', The Englishman had no time to reply to this, for just then a number of birds rose, and he let ily at them for all he wag worth, but with no result. •'That's what your confounded Scotch mist does," said the sportsman sulkily. "I never miss at home." "•Mebbe no," replied Sandy, with a chuckle; " but ye've jist turned it into an English mist for the present, at a' events." "That's a specimen of Scotch wit, I suppose, Sandy? You said that because I missed." " Jist that; but here ye are again." Another opportunity offered at this moment for the sportsman to distinguish himself, but again the fates and his own bad shooting were against him. " Missed again," he exclaimed, in unfeigned amazement. "Well, I could swear I killed something that time." " Sweerin' wnd be a relief, I daursay," said Sandy, soothingly; "but keep up your heart, for efter a' ye're daein' no sac bad." " How do you make that out ?" asked the Englishman, " Jist this way," was Sandy's disgusted answer; " ye're killin' time if ye're killin' naething else!"'