Uncle S.—The port; thank you : no claret ; too cold for this climate. Port is a generous liquor, and suits the constitution of Englishmen. What sport upon the stubbles ? tame after the breezes of the Scotch hills, and the slaughter of grouse and ptarmigan?

Nephew.—The fact is shire is no partridge country ; and indeed, with some few exceptions of strictly preseryed ground, I cannot call any of the Midland counties first-rate. The stubbles themselves are strong enough, long enough, and warm enough for anything : I never saw their equal ; and if there were but birds, an essential in partridge shooting, there is nothing to hinder a man from making a good bag. But the land is cold, and on unpreserved ground it requires good shooting and hard walking to succeed. As the farming gets better, the shooting gets worse ; and for any one whose time is worth a consideration-after the first fortnight, he had better put his shootingiron into the case, and wait patiently for sport till the first of November.

Uncle S.—Then you had no sport?

Neph.—On the contrary, Muzzleton, with whom I was staying, was delighted : considered himself a fortunate dog, and says he has more than an average number of birds. When your host has a pretty wife, a capital buggy-horse at your service, and a good cook, one finds it dif. ficult to tell him that the great object of your visit, partridge shooting, had not been attained ; that his sport is very bad-in fact, a mere myth. Such however it was, and such it is likely to remain, unless he takes steps to improve it.

Uncle S.–Of course you are prepared to recommend the steps to be taken for turning - shire into Norfolk.

Neph.--I am: do as they do in Norfolk ; or even in _ shire, when they want to give their friends a day's shooting, instead of a day's walking. I'm in good condition for a thousand-mile match. Let them spend some money over it. Cheap and nasty is as true as it is trite. Muzzleton wants a keeper or two to kill vermin: not a cowherd to look after the birds and keep off poachers. Yet that's his idea of a manor, and so it is of hundreds who profess to have game in what is naturally a game country. You have plenty of foxes ? of course you have, because you go to great expense about them: everybody wishes to have them ; yet foxes, I apprehend, are not indigenous to — shire, any more than to any other county in England. Muzzleton says the preservation of foxes militates against the game.

Uncle S.-I dare say he does, and most of the old women whom you saw there. The fact is, that it does nothing of the sort ; but there are a few cantankerous people, who, not hunting themselves, are never happy but when they are abusing the foxes. They seem to include under the head of fox, polecats, weazles, stoats, rats, and all the twolegged vermin to whom they are really indebted for the destruction of a few partridges and pheasants. If forty partridges of full growth are missed in the middle of October, without any trace of the marquder, the tenant informs his landlord that it's impossible to keep them with such a “lot of foxes about.” The same with hens ; twenty of thirty at a time, all gone—not a feather to track them-not even the symptom of a scuffle, or a mark of a pad within miles. “Drat them beggarly foxes ; dang'd if I don't shoot 'un if I catches 'un.” Even half-a-dozen lambs, most probably knocked on the head by some of the nice young men that usually colonize a canal and railroad country, are all placed to the account of poor Reynard ; who has certainly peccadilloes enough to answer for, without bearing the sins of two-thirds of a county gaol. There are plenty of places, even in this county, where, by a little expense and care, every field has its covey, and every cover its litter or two.

Neph.-Well! my dear uncle, I have no doubt you are right, and Muzzleton wrong ; but what does that matter to me. His ignorance has not increased the growth of partridges, and the fact, alas ! for me remains the same. His notion is evidently this : that by desiring your tenants to keep a look out, and by giving their labourers a few shillings, after the season has commenced, that he must have plenty of sport. Very good! the labourer is worthy of his hire: you cannot do better than draw them to your standard by judicious feeing; but labourers don't hatch partridges’ eggs—not the warmest among them; and as to Master Hodge, with his hundred-and-fifty acres, turning off a marauder, of course he will, if the man follows his birds into Hodge's garden-not without. I think I see him, after his twelve o'clock bacon and beans, with a pint of strong ale by his side, and a long clay-pipe in his mouth, taking off his slippers and putting on his strong boots, to see who the gentleman is, half-a-mile off, firing away into your covey. Not he ; it's too much for human nature to expect. By the time Hodge's broad hat and face appear over the top of the hill, our friend shears off in an opposite direction : ten-to-one it's Giles, the managing-clerk of the bank in the pearest market town: Hodge don't want to offend him. If Myzzleton means shooting, at least what I call shooting, he must have a keeper, to destroy vermin and take up trespassers; who ought to know where the nests are, and defend them from the common accidents of being mown over or stolen. If he were to do this over a fair extent of country round his own house, and take his chance for any outlying farms, of which he may have obtained the right, by permission, he might have sport.

Uncle S.-And here, my boy, you may add that when he gets what he calls the right, he should have it in black and white, on stamped paper, which will give him the authority to take up, or to discharge all the trespassers, as though it were on his own manor. The verbal permission, even when paid for, is of no avail against neighbours who will take a dirty advantage, as opportunity offers. A legal document is more convincing. “Grummar and law” is the way to have shooting. With all this long discussion on the ways-and-means, I never have heard what you really did. Let me have a sketch of the day.

Neph.-Willingly; and they were all pretty much alike. Breakfast, shooting, dinner, and bed. I'm not an early riser ; and Muzzleton indulges himself and me at the same time. We never had any particular fancy for “catching 'em on the stubbles : ” if they stayed on the stubbles till 10 A.M., we caught them ; if not, we went elsewhere to look for them. This line of conduct had this good effect : it put off our disappointment, when we walked through the aforesaid stubbles, blank. About 10 o'clock during the past month, the sun had attained a sufficient altitude to be at all events something more than perceptible. On starting, the prospect was not promising, for there appeared to extend on every side of us whole prairies of grass : such galloping ground and feeding ground—for oxen, not for birds. “Do you see those stubbles out there, by the side of that cover ; there, straight over that hundred-acre field ? well! we must get there : we had better beat these grass fields on our way. This is the outside of our beat : nothing bred here: yes, moles in abundance. Look out, my boy, there's a hare lies somewhere in these grass fields (there were four of them, averaging 40 acres each, and the fifth in the parish survey down at 100); she's been seen twice this season since the beans were cut.” On we travel, and the sun licks up the mist, and comes out a regular scorcher. “Try that cover; it looks likely, but holds nothing.” In the meantime, old Sancho has a point as dead as a door-nail, quite at the other end of the field, about a quarter of a mile off-rather more than less ; n'importe, “birds is birds,” and away we go, best pace of course, though whoever gets there first must wait for the other, if only for appearance sake : we both arrive about the same time, out of breath, but nervously anxious. “Mind you take the right-hand birds ; I shall look for the old cock ; I told you we had better beat these fields." Up jumped a rabbit, which we had the satisfaction of seeing scuttle into his hole, after an ineffectual blaze at him from both of us. It is something to let your gun off, and the excitement evidently carries Muzzleton away. The pace is increased with no better success, till we come to the stubbles. Here, as we mount the gate, which was most unmistakeably chained, away go four birds. “ Mark,”-very likely the faithful attendant is just where he ought not to be, at our heels, bearing the luncheon, the dog-whip, couples, and the game bag ; so the birds go to the top of the stubble, and being now out of sight, will require some finding. But that is not the covey which be. longs to these fields—the covey: so there is but one-thirteen birds ; that's six brace and a half, if we kill them all : these fields : so there are more of them ; indeed there are, and a more cheering looking prospect never met the eye of a sportsman. Having topped the first stubble, but not having found our covey of thirteen, we behold two more at our feet, a happy mixture of squitch, nettles, and straw, and here they must be. True enough, Don stands : no birds could run in such stuff, for it's hard to walk in it: having nothing better to do, they rise, and a leash of them fall. Away go the rest : where? Why into the beans below. Capital! now we shall have them! standing beans : nothing I enjoy like standing beans. Muzzleton did'nt look happy: “I'm afraid we can't go there : Old Peastraw's not fond of seeing anyone in them, and here he comes ; let's ask him ; say you know exactly where they are.” “Good mornin', gentlemen, good mornin' : walk in and take a snack ?” “No, not at present.” “Well ! happy to see you: what sport ?” “Not very good.” “Well! there is birds, there is birds surelie : see four yesterday myself: hope you'll go all over the land, only spare the crop-spare the crop, gentlemen.” Muzzleton had got his mouth open, and this speech of the old farmer's shut it again, without getting out the intended request. Then we had an hour's walk in the turnips and mangold-wurzel, where we shot a brace of barren birds ; a large covey was flushed in a green-sward field without our getting a shot. We sit down to luncheon under a broiling sun-our greatest satisfaction ; intolerable thirst, with the capability of quenching it with bitter beer, or cold brandy-and-water. “ They're all in those confounded beans," says Muzzleton, as he lights his cigar and pours out a glass of dinner sherry ; “ they'll all be cut next week, and then we shall get at them.” After our siesta we proceed, with very indifferent luck, as it seems to me : Muzzleton thought better of it, when, by dint of downright slavery and not missing a bird, we had killed six brace. The day was waning, but Noakes's farm always had birds, and he has only been once this season. Three coveys in one field ; nothing less : we'll kill our twelve brace to-day : those beans are too high to shoot in, and there's only one or two coveys on this farm. Noakes's was the land of promise : for two mortal hours we slaved over Noakes's ; it was the land of nothing else : no fulfilment of promise : not a feather to see which way the wind blew. Out of stubbles, into turnips, up and down beans (Noakes was liberal), even to the sixty-acre pastures, but not a bird. Muzzleton mopp'd his face, and stood the picture of despair. “Why I saw them myself, a week ago ; fifty brace of them, if there was a bird. Hallo! you sir, young ’un, are there any birds about here.” “ Birds, aye, lots on 'em ; Mr. Giles was a-shooting on 'em this morning like winkin'; he killed ever so many, and druv' two large coveys down into Lord Turniptop's beans ; the keeper's been a-shooting there this afternoon.” This was pleasant intelligence ; this comes of taking the outside beat, and of trusting to Noakes and his men to preserve your game. And so it went on every day; when the beans were cut, we did'nt find them ; when the beans were up, we could'nt look for them. What with the Gileses, and the want of scent, and Lord Turniptop's keeper, and the gentlemen from the canal, and the professional netters, half-a-dozen brace seems to be an average bag at Muzzleton's.

Uncle S.-Enough of dogs.
Neph.—That's not complimentary to Muzzleton.

Uncle S.--Nor to yourself, perhaps, had I said puppies. However, take another glass of port wine, and pass the bottle : we'll drown the puppy, and be silent on the amiable weaknesses of youth, which are, after all, more excusable than the garrulity of age.

Nephi-With pleasure, sir,

“Quid juvat errores merså jam puppe fateri." Unhappily for you, my tether is but a short one-from dogs and guns, to hounds and horses. The shortening days and frost-bitten dahlias proclaim the beginning of another season. We shall shortly see whether our expectations of the jumping young one are to be disappointed, or more than realized. I want your advice about a small stud for a light weight and a light purse.

Üncle S. You shall have it ; but first let me know the locality in which their talents are to be exercised. Is it over the large racing pastures of Leicestershire and Market Harboro', in the Vale of Beauvoir (where they have already had some good sport, I hear ; thirty minutes, and turned up an old ’un in the open), in the deep ridge-and-furrow of Northamptonshire, over the light plough and big ditches of the Holderness, or among the cramped fences and small fields of Essex, or the home counties? because it makes all the difference in the world what sort of animal you bestride in every one of these. Ask the officers, who some years ago were quartered at Tilbury Fort, and who having passed & winter at Weedon Barracks, fancied themselves and their horses fit for anything or any country—just ask those gallant young men what they think of the part of Essex which at that time was called Lord Petre's country, and has since been hunted by an excellent sportsman, I believe of the name of Newman (not the celebrated Charlie of that name). I saw them down there with nice thorough-bred horses, with tackle on their heads; and your old uncle, then a younger man, said to himself, “ that looks like going into the second ditch of a double, or doing it all at & fly.” Bless you, my boy, those gentlemen spent the greater part of their days walking or running about in wet turnips, or (if fortunately placed) among the stubbles and partridges. A really fast man would have stationed a man with a gun at certain fences, for it was a certain fall with these devils, and he might have shot his way to his horse. If you are going there, buy old ones, screws if you like, but made hunters ; let them have the use of their hind legs, and inind and be particular about the way they carry their heads, or they'll down you, Martingales wont help you much there, and horses that require them should be avoided in slow and cramped countries. When I go out hunting, I go for a ride, and not for å walk, so the fewer falls I get, the better pleased I am. To say nothing of the chance of being hurt, it is also undignified. Ani English gentleman, who, after a certain time of life, and in a certain position of society, not only does not repudiate tumbling down and eating dirt, but actually courts it by riding a horse unfitted to the country, Allah Mashallah! has an amount of moral courage which is thrown away in the hunting field. So tell me, my boy, when you intend to exhibit, so that across the country may not prove on the flat-of your back-to you; and that you may profit, if possible, by the family experience.

Neph.--I contemplate nothing so slow as a home county : Jorrocks in Surrey, or Briggs in Kent ; but the Scribbles have souls above buttons ; besides which, I quite agree with Hieover that there is nothing so uncomfortable to ride as å slow, standing, cat-jumping horše, except