TWO BAD SHOTS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1248, 30 January 1896, Page 41

TWO BAD SHOTS.

By John Halifax. In the autumn of 1SS —, a. party of sportsmen were assembled at a country house for a fortnight's partridge-shooting. It is not necessary to localise the place more particularly than to say it was in the county of Salop, and about ten miles from the sleepy old county town. When, however, I call them a party of sportsmen I am going just a little wide of the mark, for it would be more veracious to describe them good fellows though they all were —as a party of shooting men. Three of them deserved the superior title, for they knew how to shoot; on the other hand, two of them were most unmitigated duffers. The host himself was one of the old school, a man of some sixty summers, a steady shot and an all-round sportsman. Practically as much might be said in favour of the eldest son, except that, as he was barely five-and-twenty, his experience was much more limited than his father's. A Captain Eyton was the only other man who could hold a gun as a gun should be held, tlie party being made up by the two others who give the title to my paper. The party was an annual one. The two duffers, being college friends of the son and heir, Godfrey Turner, had been invited regularly for the last six years, while Captain Eyton had on more than one occasion been included in the invitation.

It was not generally the case that ladies were asked to Calcott Hall for the feast of St. Partridge, but on this occasion there had been a new departure, a friend of the eldest daughter being on a visit at the time. This friend, a Miss Emmerson, was an American heiress, and as beautiful (as all American women are) as she was rich. Now, it was perfectly natural that the two duffers should fall in love with this charming young lady, and they did it in a thoroughly genuine and artistic kind of way ; for it does not by any means follow that because a man is a duffer at shooting he is therefore a laggard in love.

There was a rose tree in front of the drawing-room window, a lovely Devoniensis, covered with matchless buds. It grew in wild luxuriance over a small summer-house, where tea was wont to be made at lawn tennis and croquet parties; and, by a singular coincidence, the two duffers found themselves on opposite sides of this sum-mer-house the second evening after their arrival at the Hall. 'Hallo'a!' said James (usually called Jim) Watkins, one of them, to Richard Jenkins, the 'other of them. 'Halloa! What are you doing here?' ' I was just going to ask you the same question.' 'Well, old man, I've nothing to hide—-I was picking a rosebud for that lovely American.'

' And that's exactly what I was doing,' said Richard Jenkins. That night, at dinner, Miss Emmerson wore a creamy-white Devoniensis bud in her hair. 'That's my rose/ whispered Watkins across the table to Jenkins, as the ladies left the room. 'No, my dear fellow/ replied the man addressed, ' it's mine.' 'There's nothing like having a good opinion of yourself/ said Watkins. 'That's just what I was thinking of you/ retorted Jenkins.

The next day was Sunday. At breakfast they began to talk of going to church. The host and hostess would drive; Miss Emmerson said that she should walk, and so did Miss Turner; Watkins thought a walk would do him good ; Jenkins felt more serious than usual, and thought church was the right thing that morning, and he, too, would walk. Godfrey said he would join them. Captain Eyton said he would stay behind and go down to the kennels and look at the lame setter's foot, which seemed ko amuse Miss Emmerson very much. 'Can't we persuade you to come with us?' aheasked, lauerhinsu. •,„....-

'lf I came, I should have my thoughts at the kennel/

' Well, I guess that's not very complimentary, but it's " straight," as we say across the water.'

' I am sorry to seem wanting in courtesy; but, in truth, I'm a very good veterinary surgeon and a shocking bad hand at singing and praying—sol" know you will not misunderstand me.'

' Very well,' said the lovely girl, ' I will pray for you.'

' Then, sure,' said the gallant captain, who had a touch of the Irishman in him, ' ye'll be the first ansrel that ever did.' ' Now you've made amends for all,' she said; ' and, for fear you should spoil it, I'll go and get ready.' The way to church lay partly across the fields and partly along the highway. When they were walking the road, the procession passed on smoothly enough—Godfrey and his sister leading, Watkins and Jenkins, on either side of Miss Emmerson, bringing up the rear. But when they came to the fields, it went not so smoothly. The footpath was narrow in places, and only two could walk abreast (sometimes there was room only for one), and then there was generally a little skirmishing, and as fine a piece of manoeuvring as would have done credit to ' our only general' himself. Naturally they were longer on the way than they ought to have been, and the service commenced as they reached the door of the church, which they entered with varied feelings—Godfrey and his sister sedate and proper; Miss Emmerson laughing inwardly, highly amused at her cavaliers; Watkins and Jenkins greatly annoyed with each other, and as jealous of each other as it was possible to be. On the return journey Miss Emmerson pleaded fatigue, and took her place in the carriage with the host and hostess. Their way lay past the keeper's cottage, where the kennels were, and, just as they passed, Captain Eyton turned the comer of the ! wood into the drive.

' Plenty of room for you, Eyton,' said the Squire. 4 No, thanks, I'll walk,' returned he to whom the offer was made. 'lf you'll take me to see the setter's foot I'll walk back with you,' said Miss Emmerson.

' Sure, an' ye prayed for me to some purpose,' said Eyton, as he helped Miss Emmerson from the carriage. 'Ye prayed for me to some purpose, seeing that the blessing has come so soon.' ' Captain Eyton,' said the beauty, fixing her sparkling eyes on his face, ' you're the only Englishman I've met that can pay a pretty compliment.' * Faith,', said he, 'the flowers are bound to smile when the sun shines out on them.'

' Are you taking me to the dogs ?' she enquired. ' I hope not,' he replied. ' I'd not like to lead you to so bad an ending !' ' You arc incorrigible, sir.' she answered. ' I'll give you up.' 'Anything but that,' ho replied, halfbanteringly, half-earnestly.

When Miss Emmerson had examined the wounded foot (which would be right again after a couple of days' rest) she returned with Captain Eyton to the drive, and before they reached the house they saw their late companions, a long way behind them, returning- from church. Of course, Watkins and Jenkins saw Miss Emmerson and her companion, but, as Captain Eyton was not in the running, they didn't mind it very much. The next morning Watkins was down to breakfast before Jenkins, and while he was flirting very successfully with a piece of pork pie he told his host that he had sprained his knee in getting over a stile, and he thought it would be wise to rest for the day. Before breakfast was over in came Jenkins; he had a very perceptible limp, and, in answer to his host, he said he had twisted ids ankle m going across the fields to church, and he didn't feel at all lit for a day's walkin -;. The old Squire was very much distressed at this chapter of accidents, but he know perfectly well that the bag would be as full at tiie end of the day, notwithstanding there would be two guns less in the field. In truth, these sportsmen didn't ' count.' Captain Eyton generally walked in the middle of the line, on either side of him being one of our ' duffers/ and they were flanked again respectively by father and son. It was an understood tiling that no one waited for Watkins or Jenkins to shoot, so it frequently happened that Watkins and another -hot at a bird simultaneously. When the keeper took the bird ; from the retriever's mouth Watkins would say, 'My bird, I think, Velveteens ?' and Velveteens woidd smile, and touch his hat, aad say ' Yes, sir,' with a side look at his master. And the same thing would happen with Jenkins and the other flank. Yet, oddly enough, they hardly ever killed to their * own cheek.' But to go on with my story. After breakfast Watkins and Jenkins had a short conversation of a very private and confidential nature. Watkins: ' It's all humbug about your being lame. There's nothing the matter with you.'

Jenkins: c Ditto.' Watkins : ' Why can't you say, straight out, what you mean ?' Jenkins : ' Why can't you ?' Watkins •. ' Well, I don't see the good of going on like this, playing the fool all round.'

Jenkins: ' Neither do I.' Watkins: 'We shall bo the laughingstock of the family.' Jenkins : ' Speak for yourself.' 'Good morning,' cried a cheery voice behind them—they were on the terrace at the time —' I am so sorry to hear of your accident—so very unfortunate. Hadn't you better ask Captain Eyton to farry you ? he's splendid at sprains.' It was Miss Emmerson who spoke, and the two men blushed like schoolgirls—or rather as they used to blush, for they don't do it now. ' There ida.'t much the matter, thank

be all right in a couple of days/ added Watkins.

' I shouldn't be at all surprised if I am laid up for a week,' put in Jenkins, who thought he saw how to steal a march on the enemy. ' A bad sprain is a very uncertain thing,' pursued Watkins. 'l've known fellows lie on a couch all day for weeks ;' and as he spoke a lovely vision of an interesting invalid stretched full-length on a couch, waited on by a divinity from over the sea, flitted through his brain. That sweet vision was, alas! quickly dispelled by the recollection that there might in this case be two invalids and two sofas —and only one divinity. ' But I am sorry,' reasserted that divinity, as she turned towards the door. ' I'll send Captain Eyton to you : that's the best thing I can think of doing for you.' When she was out of hearing, Watkins said—

' Now, look here, Jenkins, I've had enough of this.'

' So have I,' interrupted Jenkins. ' Weil ; now, I'll shoot you,' said Watkins. 'Eh ? I'm just as likely to shoot you/ was the amiable rejoinder.

« I don't mean that/ replied Watkins; ' I mean I'll shoot a match at pigeons with you, on terms to be mutually arranged, the loser to clear out and leave the other in peace.'

' I'm with you/ said Jenkins. At this moment Captain Eyton (sent, no doubt, by Miss Emmerson) came on the terrace, accompanied by Mr Turner, the old squire. Watkins at once began about, the pigeon-match. He pretended that, as they were incapable of walking after the birds, they were going to have a bit of pigeon-shooting in one of the home meadows, if pigeons could be obtained, &c. Mr Turner told him he had no doubt a limited number of pigeon's' could be procured at a night's notice, and it was settled that the match should be shot on the morrow, the terms beitig six birds each, one ounce of shot, the use of one barrel only, and twenty-five yards rise. The contest was fixed for half-past 9, so as not to spoil a clay for the partridgeshooters, who, of course, wished to see the match. i "' "v

In the morning the pigeons j camef'jm'&'4t the appointed time our,.friends assembled for the great event. The '• arrattgenpjnts for the match were very primitive. ' The ' trap ' was simply an inverted bread tin, and occasionally, when it was pulled over, it knocked the pigeon over too; but, takingit all round (if a tin with rectangular sides can be taken that way), it was very successful. Velveteens was trapper and puller ;Mr Turner was referee; Captain Eyton produced the cartridges, the shot of which lie had carefully weighed ; Godfrey measured the distance and marked the boundary string, and the match began. 'Which shall fire first?' asked Watkins.

' We had better toss for it,' replied Jenkins. 'First blood is often an important item towards victory.'

So they tossed. Eyton threw up a coin, and Watkins and Jenkins cried, simuitane-

ously—

' Woman!' ' Y'ou call, Jenkins/ said Captain Eyton, Up went the coin again. ' I'll have a woman/ said Jenkins. It was a man; so Watkins took his placr-j at the peg-. Godfrey offered to lay 4 to l on the bird* No takers. He increased ifto 5 to 1. Still no takers.

' I'll take you/ said Jenkins, who had. &, very practical eye to business, and thought this good hedging—if he lost the lady, ha won the dollars!

Then Watkins fired, and Jenkins lost a sovereign.

Now it was Jenkins' turn to shoot

' Five to one,' said Godfrey. 'l'll take you/ replied Watkins, whosa practical mind saw the usefulness of the hedging process that Jenkins had started Then Jenkins fired, and Watkins lost a sovereign.

So it went on right through the matcheach man shot at six pigeons, each man missed six pigeons, and each man lost six pounds. The old squire laughed till ho nearly had a fit of apoplexy, while Velveteens had the worst attack of neuralgia all down one side of his face that he had ever suffered from, and it was only by constant and violent friction with the sleeve of his shooting coat that he was able to continue performing his duties on that memorable occasion; and a country yokel, who came to see the fun, was so ail'ected that lie vanished for the rest of the day, and was found at night by his sorrowing wife in the Bed Cow, too drunk to walk home, but not too drunk to stutter m reply to her remonstrance, 'Shix bir'a apeesh, and mished the bloom'n' lot'' On the way back to the Hall the two rivals walked together, both of them much crestfallen, but both resolute still ' We're no nearer a solution "than we were, began Watkins.

' I'm a good deal rearer dissolution than I was replied Jenkins. 'V m not oi « stand tins much longer.' ' Look here, old man, "let's toss for it' Certamly-if you consider it a proper thing to toss about a lady ' *»*«£»w Wa?k l ins Pr ° P 'Tl^ be lianged ! ' ret ™d Watkins. There s no other way of getting out of it. Now, then' (producing a com) ' which will you have ?' u roaucm Sr ' Is it sudden death »' us/^ pi ' olon S Gd f or one > 'lf you lose/ continued Jenkins „««. bemg quite ready to rush onhfcfSte *if you lose, you'll chuck ?' late,— if ' Honour bright !' ' Throw her up, then I'll hS^ this time.' u % 9 a But it was a woman ' 'Just my luck!' wailed Jenkins <TPt to the woman I £g During the remainder of tho t, •■

ventured in the grounds in front of the Hall, he saw Miss Emmersoh admiring some roses, Watkins doing his best to help her. Jenkins, quite upset at the sight, ■went back to the billiard-room and made more attempts on the spot stroke. But he couldn't keep at this all the afternoon, so he strolled into the drawing-room, and Miss Emmerson was there, looking over a volume of poems, with Watkins at her side. Then a wild hate sprang up in Jenkins* heart, and he half-resolved to murder "Watkins. Then he thought of his compact, and honour came to the rescue, and he determined to leave for town on the morrow, pleading his injured ankle. Watkins took Miss Emmerson in to dinner that night, and they chatted away in the most friendly manner all through the meal. Jenkins saw it all, and was all the more resolved to go. As the men, having played their last game, lounged round the billiard table that night preparatory to 'turning in/ Jenkins said to his host—

'I think I shall run up to town tomorrow. I want to attend a companymeeting, and it will be all the better to give my foot a complete rest/ And, although the old squire tried to persuade him that sufficient rest could be found at Calcott Hall, he would not be persuaded. Watkins and he went upstairs together, and as they parted at the former's door, he said —

*lt seems to me your wisest plan to do as you say. It takes a bit of the sweet off my success to see you looking so miserable. Very sorry, old fellow, but it can't be helped. Good night.' In the morning, as Jenkins stood in the hall waiting for the trap to come round to take him to the station, Miss Emmerson came up to him, and said to him—Watkins being within earshot—- ' This is very unfortunate; but we are sure to meet again, and when we do, I hope it will be under happier circumstances for you.' 'We are not likely to meet again/ said Jenkins. ' You will soon be going back to America, and I never travel/ ' But I'm not going back/ she said.

Not going back ! Watkins was already successful, then, and he'd won the lovely girl! He looked at Watkins; Watkins smiled.

' Let me congratulate you, Miss Emmerson/ pursued Jenkins, ' upon your engagement/

* But who told you ?' she asked, flushing a little in spite of her American coolness ; *it only happened yesterday. Have you been letting the cat out, Harry ?' This to Captain Eyton, who strode into the hall at the moment.

Jenkins looked at Watkins; Watkins didn't smile. Then they both looted in a bewildered sort of way at Captain Eyton. Finally they shook hands with him, and congratulated him, and while Jenkins paid Miss Emmerson a pretty compliment or two, Watkins slipped away. He was back in a few minutes, ready for a journey. 'l'm going up to town with Jenkins/ he explained, 'to have my knee examined, and — and — and (desperately) to buy a Wedding present for Miss Emmerson/ They hardly spoke to each other on the way to town. At the terminus, Watkins said to Jenkins, as the latter was getting into his cab—'We were always bad shots, old man, and this is about the worst shot we ever made/ —Baily's Magazine for December.

With a view of dealing with the Otauru Creek trouble at Shannon, Mr Seott, engineer, has reported in favour of a bank B£t high, with a base of 14ft, being erected. A meeting of settlers on Monday interested in the proposals for the drainage of the district under the control of the Mana.watu Land Drainage Board has endorsed the proposal for the J 27500 loan.