For the shepherd the days and nights of January are heavy with responsibility--he counts himself lucky if he can find time for an hour's sleep. It is wonderful how the shepherd of a large flock knows all the ewes and the lambs over which he now watches. In his lambs he has a personal interest, for there may be a sixpence in his purse for each lamb that lives to be deprived of its tail. The shepherd's knowledge of the lambs surpasses that of the ewes, whom sometimes he deceives; for it is by scent rather than sight that the mother recognises her offspring, while the shepherd believes only what he sees. By fastening the skin of a dead lamb on to an orphan he will induce a bereaved ewe to adopt the orphan, and she will accept, guard, and love it as if it were her own. * * * * * Shepherds' Care January is to the shepherd what June is to the gamekeeper. There is more than common meaning to the shepherd in the greeting, "A happy and a prosperous New Year." Be luck good or bad, the bleat of the lamb is the sweetest sound of the year to shepherd ears: it means as much as the pee-peep of the pheasant chick to the gamekeeper. Keepers and shepherds are deeply attached to their respective "coops"--a word used by the shepherd for the enclosures, one hurdle square, made for the lambs. The experience of coop life is briefer for the lamb than for the young pheasant. After enjoying a few hours of privacy, the ewe and her lambs are turned into the large general nursery, to fend for themselves among the baa-ing crowd. * * * * * Winter Partridge-driving Weather makes more difference to partridge-driving than to most forms of shooting. The ideal day comes when the weather is mild, and the air still. Then only can the movements of partridges be controlled with some certainty--not that partridges ever can be driven against their will. In high wind their speed is tremendous, and a hundred birds do not give the chances of ten too tired to swerve. In hard, frosty weather, when the fields are like rough paving-stones, though the day is still, the birds are up and off before the advancing driving-line can shape itself to influence their flight. But in mild, still weather, the soft soil clogs the birds' feet, they are slow to rise, and packs and coveys become split up and their ranks disorganised--to the advantage of the sportsmen. A mild day may open hopefully enough, but if driving rain comes with blustering wind the sport is spoiled.