JAXUArY 11, 1862.]


FU IN.


 SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.
 DEAR FtL-,--You know what a capital shot I am theoretically,
although, until last week, I have never had the advantages which a
day in the fields with a gun and real live birds present to the practical
sportsman. Having a couple of days to spare, I accepted the invita-
tion of SIa BILBEURIY BUSH, LoUD .J0HN DE COURSE, and other great
guns, to run down to Poppleton Hall, Triggerham, the estate of the
first-named gentleman, and have a day with the rabbits and par-
tridges. Well, I arrived at the house, found a very pleasant party,
and on the following morning was called early to start on our expedi-
tion. By the way, I would not breathe a word of scandal about the
aristocracy, but LORD JOHN DE COUITSEY is rather eccentric, perhaps
a little insane ; for, enitEd tiouts, he is not allowed to go out shooting
without his keepers, who closely attended upon him during the day.
In proof of the above remarkable statement, I will give you an in-
stance in point: while dressing, I heard loud laughter beneath my
window, and on descending the stairs, found my friends assembled,
who told me, in confidence, that his lordship had already been
making game of his keeper. I was slightly shocked at first, but,
seeing that the person alluded to was not even wounded, I overcame
my feelings and sat down to breakfast.. During the meal the conver-
sation turned upon SIR BILBERRY's excellent preserves, but there was
only marmalade on the table, which, though good, was not better than
my AUNT SARAH makes every year. I was dressed in my usual morn-
ing dressing-gown and comfortable slippers, having been informed
that we were to shoot in cover, but, to my annoyance, I discovered
that the sport was to take p-ace in the open air. My costume not
being adapted for the fields on a cold morning, SIR BILDunRR lent me
a thick coat and a pair of gaiters, which were rather warmer: I con-
gratulated myself, however, on my foresight, in being the only one of
the party provided with an umbrella in case of rain. It was proposed
by SIR BILBEiRn that we should walk through a plantation, preceded
by a line of very common-looking men in fustianjackets and corduroys
(at whose presence in our aristocratic circle I was rather astonished,
but, I believe for political purposes, SIR BILBERRY makes himself
popular with the lower orders), who, not being able to afford guns,
carried big sticks, and whatever they could not knock down we were
to fire at. Behind each of us also walked a man with what LonD
JOHN termed a second gun,"-I suppose something like a minute
gun; but before I could get an explanation of the phrase we were
moving through the furze bushes. It was very unpleasant walking.
The men in front made a great noise with their sticks, but
missed everything. While considering whether I should put powder
or shot in first (a mere matter of taste, I believe), the man
behind gave me a gun already loaded. I walked between SmI
BILBERRY and LoaD JoiHN, who soon brought down several birds,
which, if I had only had a little longer time for a sure aim, I know I
should have killed. A fine pheasant or partridge rose up in the air.
"Look out!" cried Sin BILBERRY ; "that falls to your gun,"-and so it
would, but that I had just fallen into a bramble bush over my own
gun, which went off with loud bang, and the next report I heard was
that one of the plebeians in advance had been brought to the ground
with my small charge in his leg. Poor fellow! He was carried
home, and since then (as an instance of retributive justice) his
medical attendant has sent his small charge into me, which I have
paid. After leaving the plantation it was proposed that we should
each take our own time and shoot alone, so off we went in different
directions. I proceeded for some distance, and at last something caught
my eye, which I could have sworn (never having seen one) was a
rabbit moving along the hedge; it stopped, and I stopped; here was
an opportunity I fired, and when the smoke had cleared off, a man
appeared standing before me in the next field. "Hallo!" said he,
" my hat aint game." My very dear sir," I began, "how could ]
have mistaken it for an animal is a riddle to me." "Riddle!" he
returned, I'm dashed (that wasn't the word, but no matter), I'm
dashed if it aint riddled through and through." I offered himt
money; he took it, and then demanded my licence. It so happened,
that having procured mine (for my coining nuptials) but the day
before, it was still in my pocket. Thinking that a refusal might
annoy him, I produced it. To my surprise he treated it with
contempt, and said that he must take me up for trespassing. 1
explained that I was a friend of SIR BITLERRY'S. "Blow SIR
BILBERR !" was the coarse rejoinder, and then he observed that he
must take away my gun as a preliminary step to bringing me before
the nearest magistrate,-MR-I. WAvLKER, I fancy was the name. I
suggested that the latter proceeding would be a great inconvenience
to me, and if it appeared in the papers might damage me with my
dear EUSTASIA (the future MRS. SIMrEL) ; so after much expostulationl
on my part, and sufficient oaths on his to make the fortune of a poor-
Ibo:, he consented to let me go, on condition that I surrendered my


watch as security for my appearance belori'li- e aI!oresn id M i. iW \I.mI .
on the following day. 1 gladly acceded to tlhes' ermi, ;ind parl ed
with him and my gold repeater. I raclnhed Sti; Iill.li:i's ;t. dlnna r
time. They had had a capital day, and on my tiliing IthIn1 my story
agreed to accompany meo to MiR. WAI.K o'S on the morrow. W e
were quite unable to find that gentleoman's house, which we:s odd,
considering his position as a county nilgistralt; > in tho afternoon,
however, I was obliged to return to I own\ in order to make prepara-
tions for my approaching wedding, and have heard no moro of nlmy
trespassing or watclh.-I remain, yours sportively,
 Verrey Grcil, lHoa.ton. CatloNs S1i'Mri..
 P.S.-I re-open this to say that intolligenco of tile man whio tooil
my watch has just reached mo. IHo is one of a gang of thivilng
gipsies. The police are after him, but, I fear a very long way after
him, as there appears but small hope of catching hinl up.-YoIurs,
 C. S.


 SONG FOR THE THRONG.
 Oi, VERSIFICATION FOR TiHE NATION.
 No. I.--A PAUPER'S CRIIONICLE.
 A PAUPER, gray-headed and old,
 Sat under the workhouse wall,
 On his scattered locks, all yellow and cold,
 The wintry sun did fall.
 Of Christmas faro I ween that his share
 It was very scant and small!
 And he sat, and crooned to himself
 Of the days when ho was young,
 And how from the earth his living sparo
 By his honest toil was wrang;
 And how he found himn a helpmato good
 His neighbour's daughters among.
 "But the times," he murmured, "grew hard
 And the wages fell and foll;
 And my wife grow sick for the lack of food,
 And the childer were not well;
 But the landlord and farmer had other to do,
 Than to list to what I'd to toll.
 SSo we took a worser house,
 A cottage narrow and damp,
 And 'twas thero I was struck with ague cold
 And the sharp rheumatic crampp;
 How my bones they ached, ais, at early dawn,
 To my labour I did tramp !
 "And one by one to Himself,
 The Loau took the childer back,
 Save one, the youngest and weakest of all;-
 We could not clothe us in black,
 But we mourned in our hearts, poor MAlRY and I,
 For the faces that we did lack!
 "For twenty years we had struggled on,
 But our earnings grow worse and worse,
 So we came to the Union House at last,
 That's paid out of England's purse;
 And the child, that was always ailing and sick,
 Was put to a stranger nurse.
 "And they parted MARt and me,
 That for twenty year had been wed,
 Although w we re both grown old and gray,
 And the flower of our ago was sped.
 I felt as if one-half of myself
 Were buried somewhere, and dead !
 "And we've lost the child,-of a hasty blow,
 That killed it unaware;
 It was always a weak and a fretful thing,
 And poor MARY begged for its care;
 But for pauper mothers to rear their own
 Were indulgence much too rare! "
 So that gray-headed man and old,
 Crooned under the workhouise wall;
 On his thin white hairs, all yellow ani cold,
 The wintry sun did full.
 'Tis a blessed Faith that tells us of ONE
 Still watching over us all!


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