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the damsel, and slaps his leather-covered
thighs, and flings his arm in the air, converting
his finger and thumb into castanets!
Peace ever rest upon his love!

                           OUT SHOOTING.

A MERRY sunshine shone over Vienna on
the third day of September last. I was sitting
in the early morning, looking at the little
thimbleful of coffee and the two horns of
bread, half roll half cake, which a fat little
housemaid had just brought into my room,
wondering how, after such slender fare, I
could wait patiently for dinner, when a loud,
cheery voice came ringing up the stairs, and a
young German friend presently flung open
my door, and showed himself to my astonished
eyes in the complete sporting costume of his

He wore a high-crowned, white Tyrolese hat,
with a feather in it; a light-green coat,
profusely braided; black dress trousers; and a
pair of high Indian-rubber fishing-boots
preposterously wide and large; a broad couteau de
chasse hung at his side; a bran-new belt
confined his waist, and he carried a green pouch,
large enough, when filled, to load a pony. In
short, he was in full sporting trim, and knowing
something of the manners of his countrymen,
I saw at once that he meant
partridge-shooting. Had I been a stranger, I
should have supposed that he came to me in
costume from a morning rehearsal of Der

Bidding a bull-dog and a terrier, which he had
brought with him as sporting dogs, be quiet,
while he put their heads into a sort of brass
cage, called a muzzle here, he told me,
with considerable excitement, that he was
off to a shooting party some sixteen miles
away, and that he came to fetch me to the

"It will be a warm day," I said, pulling on
my gaiters. "Is there much heavy ground
to go over?"—"No," was the reply;
"nothing but the regular paths."

I was soon ready, and without more ado
we whistled up the bull-dog and the terrier.
In five minutes we were whisking away in a
light phaeton with four "yuckers " (a species
of galloway, bred chiefly in Hungary), along
the road to Gumpoldskirchen.

We found a party of some twenty or thirty
"guns" assembled at the house of my friend's
father. The gentlemen were fortifying themselves
against impending fatigue with different
varieties of sausage, cold game, ham, and such
matters, in the consumption of which we
heartily assisted. Presently, all prepared to
sally forth. The weather, as is common in
the autumn, had changed since the beginning
of the morning, and a pretty keen wind now
blew. This nearly blew out the zeal of our
companions, and promised to nip the bud of
our day's sport; for your true German sportsman
does not care much for the actual pursuit
of game, if he can only put on his shooting
clothes. Since, however, I had hazarded my
day upon the speculation, I was indisposed
to let the time be lost, and rallied those
members of the party with whom I felt
myself to be on joking terms. My friend at
length travelled up-stairs, and came back
with a couple of ample catskin muffs, which
were to be slung round our necks by means
of a cord, to keep our hands warm. Fortified
thus, we at length got under way, singing
melodious choruses on the pleasures of the
chase. The Germans sing much better than
they hunt.

I soon found, as we proceeded, that our
party was diminishing; when we had quite
reached the hunting-ground, I found myself
almost alone. Our companions had been
dropped by the way singly, like Hop-o'-my-
Thumb's crumbs, and formed a line of sporting
posts some twenty or thirty yards apart from
one another. We then stood at ease for an
hour, with a keen wind in our teeth; while a
section of our party took a circuit for the
establishment of a circle, within which the
game was to be hemmed.

My friend at this time had an
opportunity of introducing me to a few stationary
brethren. A fat little Sancho, in dress
boots, with a coat much too small for his
broad back, stood nearest to us. He was
armed with a small Swedish rifle, which was
loaded with ball. When my friend presented
me to him as "Sir Smith," he answered "Mr.
Sir, your most obedient servant." The rest
were a motley group of officers in uniform,
and men in every costume but what we should
suppose to be the right one; fine picturesque
fellows with sweeping moustaches, good
beards, and gorgeously coloured clothes. A
painter might have been glad of them,—
though certainly an English painter never
would have grouped them in a sketch of
partridge shooting.

At length a hum along the line informed
us that the sport was shortly to begin; and
a student from Bonn who had included
English in his studies turned to me with
some excitement, saying "Sor, if you please
now we cotch them will." Assuredly, there
galloped hares in plenty down upon us with
their heads up, and the partridges were darting
upward like rockets in all directions. "Lie
quiet," said I to the student, "for here comes
a hare!"—"I fear me not," was the
reply. The student, shutting both his eyes,
let off at the same time both his barrels,
and a horrid howl from my friend's bull-
dog, told us the result, which was
precisely the reverse of that which was either
intended or desired. A sharp fire now
rang along our line, and the hare fell.
When we took him up, it appeared that
our stout little friend with the rifle had the
credit of one among the lucky shots; for
besides being riddled like a sieve, our victim
had his head almost blown off.

In some alarm at these proceedings, I