Mr. Punch has pleasure in directing the attention of sportsmen of his own limited stature to an advertisement in the _Field_ announcing the sale of an estate, "including fifty acres of sporting woods, together with a small gentleman's residence." * * * * * [Illustration: HIS FIRST BIRD "Well, I didn't miss _that_ one, at all events!" "No, sir. They _will_ fly into it, sometimes!"] * * * * * [Illustration: Circumstances over which he has no control oblige the Pater to celebrate the _glorious twelfth_ in town this year. With the help of the poulterer, and the boys (at home for the holidays), he enjoys such excellent sport, that he says "never no moor" will he lavish hundreds of pounds on what he can get for next to nothing at home.] * * * * * [Illustration: ONE WAY OF LOOKING AT IT!--_Delinquent_ (_to his host_). "Oh, I'm most unfortunate! Now, you're the third man I've hit to-day!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Sportsman_ (_who has just shot a duck_). "I think he'll come down, Duncan." _Duncan._ "Ay, sir, he'll come down--when he's hungry."] * * * * * [Illustration: "THE GLORIOUS FIRST" _Young Newstyle_ (_justly indignant, to Squire Oldacres_). "There!--'Knew how it would be when you _would_ bring out those beastly dogs. _Always in the way, hang 'em!_"] * * * * * [Illustration: BROTHERLY CANDOUR.--_Jack_ (_to lady, come out to lunch_). "Are you coming with the guns this afternoon, Miss Maud?" _Miss Maud._ "I would, but I don't think I should like to see a lot of poor birds shot!" _Jack._ "Oh, if you go with Fred, your feelings will be entirely spared!"] * * * * * [Illustration: A RISKY PROCEEDING.--_Mr. Pipler (of Pipler & Co.) is having his first day on his recently-acquired moor. Any amount of shooting. Bag, absolutely--nothing._ _Master Pipler_ (_after much thought_). "Of course, they are far too valuable to be killed and eaten, pa. But isn't it rather dangerous to frighten them so much? I heard ma saying they cost you at least a guinea a brace!"] * * * * * [Illustration: TRIALS OF A NOVICE _Old Hand._ "Now, for the last time, for goodness' sake don't shoot any of us, or the dogs, or yourself." _Novice_ (_sarcastically_). "What about the birds?" _Old Hand._ "Oh, you won't hit them!"] * * * * * [Illustration: MR. MUGGS' GROUSE MOOR Mr. Muggs leaves for the north. Mr. M. as he appeared, half a minute before the train started, minus half of his luggage, and with the guard shouting to him to take his seat!] * * * * * [Illustration: "Pheasant-shooting in some districts will suffer through lack of birds. The wet weather has been fatal to the young broods."--_Shooting Reports._