I used, as a girl, to have many an enjoyable evening's sport with my rifle in the park at home, stalking "Brer" rabbit, of which there were any number, but the difficulty was to get up to them, as they were very shy from being constantly shot at, and at the slightest noise used to scurry off and disappear like lightning down their burrows. Some evenings I used to bring home two or three rabbits, though oftener than not, none at all, but whatever the result, it was all the same a very pleasant way of spending a summer's evening, and there was a good deal of excitement about it. Then another great amusement of both my brother's and mine was rook shooting. Most people, unless they have tried it themselves, would think there couldn't be much sport in shooting at a young rook sitting quietly on a branch of a tree unable to fly away, but let them once try rook shooting with a 300-bore rifle, when there is enough wind to blow the trees about, and they will find it requires no small amount of skill to fetch down a young rook from the top of a high tree which is gently swaying to and fro. There are two difficulties in this particular form of shooting which affect a woman perhaps more than a man. The strained attitude in aiming, necessitated by the height at which the rooks build their nests, causes serious stiffness at the back of the neck, which soon communicates with the muscles of the shoulders and obliges one to rest awhile. Again, and this more especially occurs when the tree-tops are moving, the tiny target a young rook makes when peeping out of its nest, will soon become indistinguishable among the twigs and branches around it, unless the sight taken is both instantaneous and accurate. Many a time has it happened to me to gaze and gaze down the barrel of my rifle vainly attempting to draw a bead upon the swinging rooklet, until everything becomes blurred and blotted, and I was perforce obliged to bring the rifle down in despair.