. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. Shooting with Rover and Ranger. SHOOTING PAINS* The charge is prepared.—Macheatk. If I shoot any more Ill be shot, For ill-luck seems determined to star me, I have marchd the whole day With a gun,—for no pay—Zounds, Id better have been in the army! What matters Sir Christophers leave ; To his manor Im sorry I came yet!With confidence fraught,My two pointers I brought, But we are not a point towards game yet! • Comic Annual, 1833. 574 SHOOTING PAINS, And that gamekeeper too, witli advice ?Of my course he has been a nice chalker« Not far, we
. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. Shooting with Rover and Ranger. SHOOTING PAINS* The charge is prepared.—Macheatk. If I shoot any more Ill be shot, For ill-luck seems determined to star me, I have marchd the whole day With a gun,—for no pay—Zounds, Id better have been in the army! What matters Sir Christophers leave ; To his manor Im sorry I came yet!With confidence fraught,My two pointers I brought, But we are not a point towards game yet! • Comic Annual, 1833. 574 SHOOTING PAINS, And that gamekeeper too, witli advice ?Of my course he has been a nice chalker« Not far, were his words, I could go without birds ;If my legs could cry out, theyd cry Walker 1 * Not Hawker could find out a flaw,— ]My appointments are modern and JNIantony, And Ive Ijrouj^ht my own man. To mark down all he can,But I cant tind a mark for my Antony ! The partridges,—where can they lie ?I have promised a leash to Miss Jervas, As the I could do ; But without even twoTo brace me,—Im getting quite ULrvousl ^^^^. Canvassing a Burrow— Come to the Pole. To the pheasants—how well theyre preserved!My sports not a jot more beholden, As the birds are so shy, Fur my friends I must buy,And su send silver pheasants and golden.* SHOOTING PAINS. I have tried every form for a hare, Every patch, every furze that could shroud her, \\ itli t il , Till my patience is I cannot be taxd for hare-powder. Ive been roaming for hours in three flatsIn the hope of a snipe for a sn-ip at; But still vainly I court The percussioning sport,I find nothing for setting my cap at ! A woodcock,—this month i- tlie time,—Right and left Ive made ready my lock for, With well-loaded double, But spite of my trouble,Neither barrel can I tind a cock for ! A rabbit I should not despise, But they lurk in their burrows so lowly; ^ This days the eleventh, % It is not the they seem to be keeping it hole-y. 575
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