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mentions six, seven, and eight couple bagged per diem in England. The weather of every day, it will be remembered, was very wet from the month of June to that of February, with the exception of one week; and that week was the first in November, and then the wind was at east and north-east. The little black-cock arrives first-they say from Siberia; then comes the large muff-cock: the former is quicker in his movements than the latter, and when flushed flies generally to a greater distance. From the frequently heavy and sleepy flight of the latter, it is known in some parts of England by the name of "timberdoodle," doodle being also applied to the owl. It averages twelve ounces in weight, whereas the Siberian cock does not usually exceed ten. The system of taking the woodcock in glade-nets no longer obtains to any extent in England: the perfection to which the use of the gun has been brought has superseded the practice. It may not, however be uninteresting to give a brief sketch of the mode of managing the glade-net. In deep covers a hollow passage was cleared between two rows of great trees, for a considerable distance; and across this avenue, midway between the branches and the ground, was suspended a large square or oblong net. About twilight, when the blackbirds begin to chatter, the woodcocks get on the wing in search of food, and invariably follow the course of glades, avenues, or roads; hence it has been termed "roading:" and the nets being conveniently set, a man stands by and takes them as they strike. In Devonshire and Cornwall, as many as twenty couple have been netted in one night. Springes are still commonly in vogue in these counties, and very destructive they are among snipe and woodcock, especially during frosty weather. On the Cornish moors, on Dartmoor, and on Exmoor as many as fifty or a hundred springes are set by one man during a night, and the ground is pegged out into little avenues which lead to the snare: but the practice is contraband, and the regular sportsman gives no quarter when he finds them. Cock shooting has been well denominated the fox-hunting of shooting: the bird itself is a wild, unsociable stranger, delighting in dark, unfrequented glades, and only visiting our island for three or four months in the year. To kill the first cock of the season in one's neighbourhood is a feat of no ordinary gratification to every sportsman; and the very flip of his wing, as he darts up through the cover, imparts a pleasure of which your genuine sportsman is keenly sensible. To attain perfection in cockshooting is a work of long experience, steadiness, and perseverance; and very few there are, comparatively speaking, who thoroughly understand their business. The workman does not wait for the cock to come to him, by standing on the outside of the cover while his spaniels are drawing the inside, but goes himself over head and ears into the depths of it, and there, by following up his team, seeks him out, and gets chances which he could not possibly have had were he planted on the outside; besides, one shot at a cock as he flushes is worth a dozen in the open when he is well upon wing. A friend of the writer's was yearly in the habit of visiting a cousin of his, a baronet in the west of England, who owned some famous cockcovers, and meeting a number of kindred spirits, all devoted to the wild sport which was there found in perfection; every man's shot

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was registered; and at the end of the week, my friend's notches generally exceeded the score of all the party. The old keeper was wont to say, "It was well Mr. Henry did not shoot in their covers all the season round, or he would destroy the whole fabric of cocks." My friend's plan, I need scarcely say, was to walk well up to his spaniels in cover. The moment of taking the shot depends, of course, upon the nature of the cover and other circumstances: in a hollow cover, under large timber, fair time is afforded for a steady aim; but in high alder beds or brushwood, as the cock is topping the twigs, and ere he takes his horizontal flight, then is the moment for drawing the trigger; and the regular cock-shot will always take advantage of that pause in the bird's passage. For quick and handy work the gun-barrels should not exceed two feet four inches, the gauge not less than twelve; the gun should be well balanced, and in cover carried full cock, with the left thumb placed on the caps, which will be found the safest mode; he will be thus toujours près, whatever game may move within his ken. If a cock be found in a steep cover, he will almost invariably fly downwards; and if the line of his flight be observed, as he generally takes a straight course, there will be no difficulty in flushing him again: but a good "mark" well posted is worth half a dozen dogs in this sport. In dropping, wet weather, cocks will never be found under large timber, but either on 'the edge of covers or in young copse or plantation: when wet heavy fogs hang about the vales, cocks will then be found high up in the covers, and vice versa if the hills be curtained in mist. In dry weather a grassy cover seldom holds a cock, in wet weather never: holly bushes are very favourite spots, and it will be seen no grass grows under them. (To be continued.)

"HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER!"

ENGRAVED BY J. B. SCOTT, FROM A PAINTING BY C. HANCOCK.

How happy could I be with either,
Or both those young rascals so gay:
I have half a mind just to try whether
They'd let me make one in their play.

For in seeing young people amused
Affords me the greatest delight;

And such chances should ne'er be abused-
They shouldn't, indeed-" honour bright!"

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my efforts to stop her;

And "Keep off, now!" says each pretty lisper;
"Your conduct's so very improper."

They charge me with murder and rapine,
In taking off Chanticleer's bride,
Like the Roman of old did the Sabine
Clean away from her own fireside.

For each gosling that's gone just the same-
Each turkey smugg'd up to the city-
The account is made out in my name,
Enclosed to the F. H. Committee.

While keepers affirm 'tis unpleasant
Against other folks' sport to cry out;
But be d-d if there'll be e'er a pheasant
As long as that fox is about.

Let them guard up their game and their geese;
For such fare I'll never complain,
So long as there-Hush! if you please-
Those beggars are moving again.

By the powers! too, it's time to attack;
For, look! they are coming quite near;
And so great gets my longing to crack
The bones of that sweet little dear!

Yes, whatever the learned declare
In their studies, my taste to define,
Amongst all the fine birds of the air,
On a rabbit I like best to dine.

For there's something so very-Just do
Once again that monœuvre, I pray:

What, you will? Then here goes-Holloa-whew!
By Golly! they've both got away!

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