To The Man With A Gun

    My dear Sir, -
    I suppose you are having an excellent time just now.
    There are a large number of counties
    In England and Scotland,
    And I am not acquainted with one of them
    Wherein your bang-bang
    And puffs of smoke
    And red-faced men with dogs
    Are not to be encountered.
    You like it;
    It is very nice;
    And really, when you come to think of it,
    It is what the counties were made for.
    In the history books
    They were wont to say
    Of a certain Norman monarch,
    That he loved the red deer
    As if he were their brother.
    Of you it may safely be said
    That you love the red grouse
    And the brown partridge.
    As if you were a poulterer.
    You are a sportsman.
    The man who first went out with a gun
    To shoot game
    Probably did it on the sly.
    Had he been caught
    He would no doubt have been regarded
    By the sportsmen of his day
    With the same contempt
    That you yourself indulge
    For the unprincipled blackguard, Sir,
    Who shoots foxes.
    But time and the gunsmiths
    Have changed all that;
    And now you are a sportsman,
    A shooter of birds
    For the London market.
    You are also a gunner,
    And you kill things.
    Oh! why do you not go
    And live at Gunners-bury?
    Bad joke?
    Well, I know it is.
    But I assure you, my dear Sir,
    That it is not half so bad as I can make them
    When I try.
    To come now to the region
    Of practical politics,
    Let me explain to you right off
    That, despite all that has been said against you
    By people who are mad about the Land
    And the Game-laws,
    And the feathered kingdom
    And so forth,
    I,
    Who am always on the side of wisdom,
    Have discovered a justification for you.
    It is this:
    There has been a great demand of late
    For really competent shots.
    In response to that demand
    Mr. Kipling has started a village rifle club.
    I understand that the members thereof
    Are, let us say, five hundred in number.
    Now, I put it to you, Sir,
    How many sportsmen are there
    Shooting in this beautiful country and Scotland
    To-day?
    Well, we will not compute;
    It is dangerous.
    But you could make a fairly big rifle club out of them.
    They are all good men,
    And of course all beautiful shots.
    Some day
    (When the war is over)
    England may want them.
    Will they answer to the call?
    My dear Sir,
    You have your uses.
    Go in peace.