where I pointed my gun, or how hard I pulled the trigger, no more game could I kill. Sometimes I put up the game, and sometimes the dog ; but it mattered not which, for nothing could I hit. At length nine o'clock found me with the hare and nothing else. I began to think the fault must be in the powder or caps, and, but that shame prevented me, should have returned home ; the gnawings of hunger, too, began to be felt, and I wished I had had some breakfast before starting. The day, too, began to be very warm, as I found to my cost ; but I still strove manfully on, determined to retrieve my ill fortune before I returned. It was of no use, however ; ten o'clock came, and with it no better success, although I had shot until I was tired of hearing the report of my gun. Some faint suspicion now began to dawn upon my mind that my want of success was owing to my want of skill. At last, faint and tired, I thought of putting the best face on the matter and boldly going home. The hare, too, was now an intolerable burden, and I almost regretted shooting it. The sun was intensely hot, and the perspiration streamed down my face, Just, however, when I was despairing of success, and thinking the matter quite hopeless, the dog put up a covey of “ chickens," which scattered themselves over an adjoining turnip-field, the tops of which were as high as my knees. All my hopes were now renewed, and all my ill-luck forgotten : now I thought I would bag some of them if possible. The dog was by this time very steady ; in fact, he would scarcely leave my heels, and then it was only to put a covey of birds or to chase a hare, owing I suppose, to fatigue, the heat of the day, or disgust at my muffishness. I marked the birds down very accurately, and so got them all up one by one, each of which was saluted in turn with both barrels of my gun : all in vain, however ; they would not be killed. The last bird was put up, fired at, and missed. He, however, settled again not far from me, in an adjoining hedgerow. I saluted him a second time with both barrels, with no better success; but as he again flew only a short distance, I tried again, and this time I was fortunate enough to get it. My dog rushed in and secured it long before I could get up, and I received the bird in a very mangled condition. It was now twelve o'clock, and I was by this time half dead with fatigue and the heat of the day; the excitement which had hitherto borne me up now failed, and at length, considerably crestfallen, I turned homewards, determined to practise well before I again attempted to shoot partridges.

I reached home about one o'clock, more dead than alive, having walked for seven hours without anything to eat ; nor could I eat anything when I did reach home : however, I swallowed three or four cups of tea, which considerably revived me; though I stirred very little the rest of the day, as may be well imagined.

I have spent many First-of-Septembers since then in shooting, and I have bagged great quantities of game; but I question if I can look back to them with the same relish of enjoyment as I can to this, my first First of September. I have never, since then, shot game with the same feeling of delight as I shot my first hare and partridge, nor have I ever felt the same feverish excitement in the pursuit of it.

Let me here warn all young sportsmen, before they attempt to shoot partridges, to practise well at larks, pigeons, or anything they can get at. They ought, also, to go out first with an old sportsman, to see how

a dog ought to be managed, which way he ought to hunt, and in what manner a field ought to be beaten. He should remember always to beat against the wind if possible, as the game cannot hear him, and the dog can find it better, as the wind blows the scent to him. If the weather is hot and dry, he ought to start very early in the morning, before the sun has much power; for there is no scent on a hot day, when the dew is off the ground. Be sure and take your time in hunting for game; and it is still more desirable not to hurry your dog, as you will get him into a careless method of hunting by walking too fast for him. A young dog is the best for a young sportsman, for an old dog always expects to have game killed to him ; failing which, he turns sulky, refuses to work, and is certain to misbehave himself ; whereas, a young dog, which has been not yet shot to, does not know that the game ought to be killed--it is enough for him to find it. He always hunts willingly in good sport or bad ; and as the sportsman improves in shooting he improves in his behaviour, until at length both become perfect together. Above all things, chastise him as sparingly as possible: do not flog him for the first fault; and if he really requires the whip, remember the motto

“Sublimi flagello tange semel.” Be firm with him, but mild ; never overlook a fault, and yet do not punish him severely : if you once break your dog's spirit you have spoilt him, and he will thenceforth be good for nothing.

The best way to take aim is to point the gun as quickly as possible at the object you wish to kill, and then take steady aim : but time and practice are the best remedies for bad shooting; a good nerve and a quick eye will be sure in time to make you a good shot. At all events, any young sportsman who has very ill success, will have the consolation of knowing that he is not the first person who is so unfortunate, and that there has been one person in the world, who, out of about sixty shots, only killed two head of game. Nor was this the only occasion of my bad shooting; for I have frequently, in the same year, missed so many shots in a day, that I have at last refused to shoot at the birds at all, even when they rose close to my feet, as I knew I should only miss again. My only wonder now is that I persevered in it at all, and did not give it up in disgust.

G. B.

A CALM DAY AT COWE S.

BY AN IDLE MAN.

"All serene!”

0-h! but it was slow !

I was'nt very well-did'nt seem to care about my dinner, nor what I had with it, or after it ; felt London was hot and Cremorne low ; did'nt know what to do or how to do it ; made sure I was going to be ill, and, like the learned vet., wanted a cure for an unknown disease.

The doctor said I wanted excitement ! Good idea that, certainly. A man may want excitement, just as he may want money ; but the question is, where the deuce is he to get it? Very well-I wanted excitement; or novelty, as the doctor put it again in a milder form--change of scene, and so on. Do something you never did before-go up Mont Blanc, or in a balloon; or try and kill a blackcock, or a Kaffir; or do something or other to bring out your energy.

But unfortunately I'm an idle man; and even excitement must be had on easier terms.

Strange to say, though an idle man I'm not a yachting man—at least, I was'nt till this week. I had never seen a yacht race—or a match, as I think it is more properly termed--and so my medical friend said it was the very thing for me. Of course I had seen the yachts often enough, but I had no idea of the excitement when they were sailing one against another; and as novelty was my recipe, here I had it.

It rained, and thundered, and lightened (if there is such a word), all the way from the Waterloo Station to Southsea, to the terrible dismay of an elderly lady, who registered every flash with a groan, and, as I took it, to the (assumed) annoyance of a nautical-looking gentleman in brass-buttons. Some of the yachts, it seems, were running through this-my misfortune being to miss the first day; the next Wednesday, too, was a bye-day, so that I should get no excitement after all till the Thursday.

Lord Frederick—the life and soul of Portsmouth-was’nt at home, but they have the Highlanders there instead of him— the finest set of men I have ever seen, and the politest. One good-looking, clean-limbed giant, who was on guard, begged my pardon as he asked me to get off a gun where I had discovered a resting-place. It was’nt allowed, he said, though I saw it evidently pained him to remove a gentleman so comfortably contemplative. Once off the gun, the easiest place seemed aboard a Southampton boat, which warranted to take you right through the squadron ; and very pretty they looked, lolling about here and there with the most delightful listlessness. On an off-day, as far as I could observe, the great thing is going aboard and going ashore- vice versa, as often as you like ; but that's the cream of it. The picked men of the Daffydowndilly-four very “smart” fellows, of course-come in for you; and the owner of the Daffydowndilly, with his friend, or his wife, or whoever else it may happen to be, go aboard ; while everybody on the pier says to everybody else, “ That's Mr. Cringle, and that's the Daffy, a neatish-looking craft.” The Dollonds and other useful inventions of a similar nature having telegraphed Mr. Cringle aboard, and Mr. Cringle in return having made his observation on “the people" ashore, the gallant Captain Closeshave is found to be coming in from his celebrated clipper, the “Screw ;”-and so the day passes in delightful tranquility, standing, perhaps, in no unfavourable contrast with the bustling doings of yesterday or to-morrow.

At Southampton, Mrs. Chisholm was busily engaged in giving her blessing to a ship-load of gold-diggers; but not being previously advised, I was unfortunate enough to miss the ceremony. Above or below bar, there isn't much to make a man walk about Southampton, and so I went to ground at the Dolphin, the house where Mr. Thackeray's friend Josh -if I recollect right-had his first pull at “the heavy" after his voyage home. The only remarkable thing here was a bald-headed gentleman who had got an artfal idea of making a salad--anchovy, cold potatoes, Harvey-sauce, and so on. This he afterwards associated with muttonchops ; altogether rather a curious matter of taste, with which, however, he contrived to inoculate a couple of accommodating friends.

Having witnessed this performance with considerable satisfaction, I went back to the boat, where we shipped a few more brass-buttons for the coming contest. A word here on the yachtman's costume. In former times, previous to taking out young hounds, a whipper-in would give each a few warning cracks across the head, with a “ Steady there!" “War hare !” “ War riot!" or war whatever the prevailing weakness might be. I should say some of our sea-faring friends wanted a little “ war brass-buttons!” to start with. I saw three or four fellows nearly covered with them. Used, however, in moderation they have a capital effect ; and indeed the yachtman's dress, as now fashioned, may be worn very becomingly. The long loose pilot-jacket is a capital exchange for the short, schoolboy thing in which I saw one six-foot unfor. tunate (it had evidently been carefully preserved); then the blue wellcut waistcoat, with just one row of the club buttons ; trousers of the same hue, and anything but patent polished boots ; with the knowing little shiny hat-turn out an amateur very like a sailor as well as like a gentleman. We hear sometimes of a man going hunting for the sake of the red coat; I wonder how many the brass-buttons have turned into sailors ?

I think I have already observed that I had very little idea of the excitement attending a yacht match. Very little indeed, I must say. Fancy yourself on the pier at Ryde—a capital point to see the best part of the race from--and fancy a whole bevy of yachts dotted about before you. Four of these, which don't appear to move a yard in a minute, are racing; and the excited people in the other boats, as well as us on the pier, are watching them. You never saw such a deadlylively-looking lot in all your life-at least, I never did ; but then I never saw a yacht-race before. Take as a sample our old friend Beau Biglimbs. There he sits, you see, in the short bat, and waistcoat covered with brass buttons, of course. These proclaim him a member of the Club; and just mark the intense interest with which he watches the mancuvres of the “ Alarm," or the progress of the “Gloriana." He has a glass for that especial purpose, and, like a provident man, a

number of “ Soapey Sponge,” as well. That's it, sir-a page of “Soapey Sponge," and a look at the Gloriana-another paragraph, and another look. There is no hurry, anyhow. I thought I was a lazy man till I got here ; but I begin to have very serious doubts about it now.

But it is serene," though. “Which is the America ?” and “How long till dinner ?" These are about the leading questions. Luckily, however, there is another boat for Cowes ; and as the Beau doubles up his “ Soapey,” and starts for head-quarters, we'll go too, and see the run-in. It certainly must be more exciting here, and any man of sense who wanted to enjoy the bustle of the thing would have never been anywhere else. Oh, that bustle at Cowes ! that languid-looking lot again, before the Club-house and in the Club-house! those dreadfully-fatigued brass-buttons, and those yet more unhappy minus-brass-buttons, with nothing to look at and nowhere to sit! And oh, you Gloriana and Gipsy Queen, if you only knew the intensity of agony, or agony of intensity, you are occasioning, you'd be home long before this!

There is no chance of that, though, as yet, and no fireworks till nine ; but, the Gods be praised, it is dinner-time at last! “What will I have ?” Mutton-chops and anchovy salad, to be sure; and bring a gallon of stout-and let's know what's won as soon as ever it's possible, Do you hear, sir?

I mean to say that yachting isn't a national sport. I mean to say it isn't a sport of the people. I mean to say that the exciting contest between the Claymore and the Gloriana assembled some hundred or two of depressed spectators on the Cowes strand, while the fireworks on the same evening drew together some thousands. But I haven't a yacht, you'll say. Suppose I haven't a race horse ? Suppose, after the great sport of the day, you finished in the evening with fire-works from the Ascot Stand ? How many people do you think would go to the races, and how many to the fireworks? It is going aboard and going ashore and “Soapey Sponge,” and brass buttons and fireworks, over and over again. Not one man in a hundred, that I saw, appeared to care more about the race than an old farmer I once met returning from the Henley regatta-“Well, sir, some says Cambridge won, and some says Oxford won : d-d if I knows, and d-d if I cares!”

Whether it was the Gloriana or the Claymore, or anything else, or whether ther ever got back at all (which, by the last reports, was doubtful), “ d d if I knows, and dad if I cares.” This may be a libel on the Cowes audience ; but if they had a deeper feeling, it was wonderfully well disguised.

I know all this is high treason. I know what the "wooden walls" and “Rule, Britannia !” and so on, will say to it; and I know what a crowd of these excited people will rush to the rescue, and contradict me. If, though, there should really be one man who felt just a little as I fancied he felt, will he be kind enough to drop a line-post-paidto say how he got on during the Saturday, whon I understand there was a yet more engrossing contest. The state of my health unfortunately compelled me to leave. Two such stirring days in one week would have been too much, indeed, for a not naturally strong constitution.

Oh, these first impressions ! Beau Biglimbs and his buttons, and bis “ Soapey Sponge”! And that's a yacht-race !