his taste in wine, or his wife's jewels. Therefore, CHALMERS is
pleased. He smiles in a deprecating way, and says, "Yes, it's not a
bad gun, one of a pair I bought last year."

"Would you mind letting me feel it?"

"Certainly not, my dear fellow here you are."

You then interchange guns, having, of course, assured one another that
they are not loaded. Having received CHALMERS's gun, you first appear
to weigh it critically. Then, with an air of great resolution, you
bring it to your shoulder two or three times in rapid succession, and
fire imaginary shots at a cloud, or a tuft of grass. You now hand
it back to CHALMERS, observing, "By Jove, old chap, it's beautifully
balanced! It comes up splendidly. Suits me better than my own."
CHALMERS, who will have been going through a similar pantomime with
your gun, will make some decently complimentary remark about it, and
each of you will think the other a devilish knowing and agreeable
fellow.

From this point you can diverge into a discussion of the latest
improvements, as, e.g., "Are ejectors really valuable?" This is sure
to bring out the man who has tried ejectors, and has given them up,
because last year, at one of the hottest corners he ever knew, when
the sky was simply black with pheasants, the ejectors of both his guns
got stuck. He will talk of this incident as another man might talk of
the loss of a friend or a fortune. Here you may say,--"By gad, what
frightful luck! What did you do?" He will then narrate his comminatory
interview with his gun-maker; others will burst in, and defend
ejectors, or praise their own gun-makers, and the ball, once set