I had the misfortune to have him shot soon after by a blundering sportsman, who fired at him instead of a covey of partridges which he had just set.

Of this creature's skin I have had this waistcoat made (showing his waistcoat), which always leads me involuntarily to game if I walk in the fields in the proper season, and when I come within shot, _one of the buttons constantly flies off, and lodges upon the spot where the sport is_; and as the birds rise, being always primed and cocked, I never miss them.

Here are now but three buttons left.

I shall have a new set sewed on against the shooting season commences.
When a covey of partridges is disturbed in this manner, by the button falling amongst them, they always rise from the ground in a direct line before each other.

I one day, by forgetting to take my ramrod out of my gun, shot it straight through a leash, as regularly as if the cook had spitted them.