Cypress, Jr., of the fact, when they bestirred
themselves in favor of the progeny of their especial favorites, perdix
virginiana and tetrao umbellus, and did defer the times for slaying them
legitimately to such a period, that it is in fact next to impossible to
kill the latter bird at all. But vainly did I plead, and a false
advocate was Cypress after all, despite his nominal friendship, for that
unhappy Scolopax, who in July at least deserves his nickname minor, or
the infant. For, setting joke apart, what a burning shame it is to
murder the poor little half-fledged younglings in July, when they will
scarcely weigh six ounces; when they will drop again within ten paces of
the dog that flushes, or the gun that misses them; and when the heat
will not allow you even to enjoy the consummation of their slaughter.
Look at these fellows now, with their gray foreheads, their plump ruddy
breasts, their strong, well-feathered pinions, each one ten ounces at
the least. Think how these jolly old cocks tower away, with their shrill
whistle, through the tree-tops, and twist and dodge with an agility of
wing and thought-like speed, scarcely inferior to the snipe's or
swallow's, and fly a half mile if you miss them; and laugh to scorn the
efforts of any one to bag them, who is not an out-and-outer! No chance
shot, no stray pellet speaks for these--it must be the charge, the whole
charge, and nothing but the charge, which will cut down the grown bird
of October! The law should have said woodcock thou shalt not kill until
September; quail thou shalt not kill till October, the twenty-fifth if
you please; partridge thou shalt kill in all places, and at all times,
when thou canst! and that, as we know, Frank, and A---, that is not
everywhere or often.
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