A Shooter
Thursday,
Wednesday, 26 Oct. 1825
I was once acquainted with a famous shooter whose name was William Ewing. He was a barrister of Philadelphia, but became far more renowned by his gun than by his law cases. We spent scores of days together a shooting, and and were extremely well matched, I having excellent dogs and caring little about my reputation as a shot, his dogs being good for nothing, and he caring more about his reputation as a shot than as a lawyer. The fact which I am going to relate respecting this gentleman ought to be a warning to young men how they become enamoured of this species of vanity. We had gone about ten miles from our home, to shoot where partridges were said to be very plentiful. We found them so. In the course of a November day, he had, just before dark, shot, and sent to the farm-house, or kept in his bag, ninety-nine partridges. He made some few double shots , and he might have a miss or two, for he sometimes shot when out of my sight, on account of the woods. However, he said that he killed at every shot; and as he had counted the birds, when he went to dinner at the farm-house and when he cleaned his gun, he, just before sunset, knew that he had killed ninety-nine partridges, every one upon the wing, and a great part of them in woods very thickly set with largish trees. It was a grand achievement; but, unfortunately, he wanted to make it a hundred . The sun was setting, and, in that country, darkness comes almost at once; it is more like the going out of a candle than that of a fire; and I wanted to be off, as we had a very bad road to go, and as he, being under strict petticoat government, to which he most loyally and dutifully submitted, was compelled to get home that night, taking me with him, the vehicle (horse and gig) being mine. I, therefore, pressed him to come away, and moved on myself towards the house (that of old John Brown, in Bucks county, grandfather of that General Brown, who gave some of our whiskered heroes such a rough handling last war, which was waged for the purpose of "deposing James Madison"), at which house I would have stayed all night, but from which I was compelled to go by that watchful government, under which he had the good fortune to live. Therefore I was in haste to be off. No: he would kill the hundredth bird! In vain did I talk of the bad road and its many dangers for want of moon. The poor partridges, which we had scattered about, were calling all around us; and, just at this moment, up got one under his feet, in a field in which the wheat was three or four inches high. He shot and missed . "That's it," said he, running as if to pick up the bird. "What!" said I, "you don't think you killed , do you? Why there is the bird now, not only alive, but calling in that wood"; which was at about a hundred yards' distance. He, in that form of words usually employed in such cases, asserted that he shot the bird and saw it fall; and I, in much about the same form of words, asserted that he had missed , and that I, with my own eyes, saw the bird fly into the wood. This was too much! To miss once out of a hundred times! To lose such a chance of immortality! He was a good-humoured man; I liked him very much; and I could not help feeling for him, when he said, "Well, sir , I killed the bird; and if you choose to go away and take your dog away, so as to prevent me from finding it, you must do it; the dog is yours, to be sure." "The dog," said I, in a very mild tone, "why, Ewing, there is the spot; and could we not see it, upon this smooth green surface, if it were there?" However, he began to look about ; and I called the dog, and affected to join him in the search. Pity for his weakness got the better of my dread of the bad road. After walking backward and forward many times upon about twenty yards square with our eyes on the ground, looking for what both of us knew was not there, I had passed him (he was going one way and I the other), and I happened to be turning round just after I had passed him, when I saw him, putting his hand behind him, take a partridge out of his bag and let it fall upon the ground ! I felt no temptation to detect him, but turned away my head, and kept looking about. Presently he, having returned to the spot where the bird was, called out to me, in a most triumphant tone, "Here ! here ! Come here!" I went up to him, and he, pointing with his finger down to the bird, and looking hard in my face at the same time, said, "There, Cobbett; I hope that will be a warning to you never to be obstinate again!" "Well," said I, "come along:" and away we went as merry as larks. When we got to Brown's, he told them the story, triumphed over me most clamorously; and though he often repeated the story to my face, I never had the heart to let him know that I knew of the imposition, which puerile vanity had induced so sensible and honourable a man to be mean enough to practise.
Notes:
became far more ... his law cases: 他办案还不如她打枪出名。
scores of days ... a-shotting: 一起打了好多天的猎。a-shooting=on shooting
caring little about ... as a shot: 我并不在乎自己是否有个好射手的美誉。
The fact which ... species of vanity: 我想讲一件有关这位绅士的事，青年人党引以为训，不要轻易染上这种虚荣恶习。
He made some ... of the woods: 他有时一枪击中两只，但也可能有一两枪没有击中，因为隔着树林，有时我并未亲眼看见。
every one upon the wing: 每只都打在翅膀上。
in woods very thickly set with largish trees: 在长满大树的密林中。
it is more ... of a fire: 更像蜡烛熄灭而不像炉火冷却时的情景。
under strict petticoat government: 在家妻子管束破紧。
that of old John Brown ... "Deposing James Madison": 那间约翰·博朗老人在布克斯郡的房子，老人系博朗将军的祖父，将军曾在上次旨在“逼迫詹姆斯·麦迪逊退位”的战争中给与我们的大胡子英雄以迎头痛击。last war: 指1812年的美英战争。whiskered heroes: 大胡子英雄，指英军。James Madison: 詹姆斯·麦迪逊（1751-1836），美国第四届总统（1808-1816）。
watchful government: 严厉管束。
in that form ... in such cases: 在这类场合常用的那种字眼。
This was too ... chance of immortality: 这太严重了！100次里失手一次！竟丢掉了一个名垂千古的好机会。
good-humoured: 脾气好的。
feeling for him: 同情他。
Pity for his ... the bad road: 我可怜起他的这个弱点来，连路不好走也不怕了。
I never had ... evough to practise: 我不忍心告诉他，我完全知道一个知书达理、品格高尚的人怎样在幼稚的虚荣心的引诱下，竟被逼地干出骗人的勾当来。
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