The Sun.
London, England, 1862-09-03 00:00:00

BLANK DAY WITH THE BLACK COCKS.

"1 h,cve heat d that on the Scottish moors the midges are
a nuisance, but I'll back the flies at Coolmer to be found by
far a greater one. My head was all day long enveloped in
a cloud of them, and you can't think how I suffared from
the buzzing biting big and little children of Beelzebub. I
wished that Nature had provided them with better occupa-
tion than spending a whole morning in plaguing and tor-
menting us; but flies are not the only idle creatures in the
world, that delight to spend their time in plaguing other
people.

" But, after all, the Blackcocks were themselves the
greatest torment to us. We were under strict injunctions
not to shoot the hens, and you may fancy what our feelings
were at seeing five hens in five minutes rising each to
a dead point, and flying off unaimed at by our deadly
double-barrels. I hope that all who shoot at Coolmer
are as virtuous as we were, and with as noble resolution
keep their hands from henslaughter. The cocks too were
as tantalising as we found the hens; for they kept on get-
ting up just ten yards out of shot, and not even a wire
cartridge could 'perwail on them to stop' with us. In a
part of the ground called Pigmoor (which owes its name to
Roger Bacon calling for more pig' when he was at a pic-
nic there), I spied a fine old cock upon the low bough of a
fir-tree; and, like the admirer of the hapless _Lucy Neal, I
thought if I were by his side how happy 1 should 'eel. But
when he saw me trying to stalk him, he waggled his old
head in the most provoking manner, as much as to say
You are a young man, but you don't get oveir me."
So after wading for eight hours in a Turkioh bath
of heat, our day's blackcock-shooting ended in our
not bagging one of them ; and when I toll you
as a sportsman that besides black game, we saw
partridges and pheasants which we also might not
shoot, and plover, snipe, and wild duck which kept safely
out of sh )t, you may conceive that our position made us
somewhat think of Tantalus, and fancy that his torments
could have scarcely equalled ours.

"There is nothing vastly funny in this narrative, it is
true. But at least it serves to show what Englishmen will
cheerfully submit to in their ardour for le sport : and a
blank day's blackcock-shooting is a far more healthy pas•
time both for muscles and for mind than a morning spent
with dominoes in the manner of our neighb'urs, or with
the scarcely more laborious exercise of billiards. With
which beautiful reflection,
" I remain, my dear Poteh, yours most sincerely,

" RAMROD."

" P.S.—Grouse-shooting was clearly a classical amuse-
merit, for we find it said of Ca3sar that 'ad Mauros pro-
jeolus est,' which evidently means that he went sporting on
the Moors."

THE YANKEE CONSCRIPT ON

CONSCRIPTION,

(From Punch.)
They sez, to die for fa- herland, a doin' of the dutiful,
Is sweet an' comely; it du look cadaverus kinder beautiful;
But ez to bein' sweet at all, I wun't say I've a doubt on it,
For this here world of ourn ain't Eot no way that's pleasant
out on it.
Wen dyin' of a bullet wick the doctor can't extract, or
A shattered leg, an' gangreen on a comminooted fracter,
Preps you may feel sum cora fert in your torter, ef your trust is
That your a sufferin.' marterdum amuse you fit for just is.
But ef so be you went to war for glory, pay, or plunder',
Wut then will ease the pangs of death ez you're a writhin.
under?
When you reflects what acts o' yourn your agernies is
owin' to,
I guess it wun't relieve 'em much to think whar you're a
goin' to.
The henner you must leave below with that there crushed
and gory form,
I 'gree with that old Fatsides in the playbook-, ain't no

chloryform,
R'un't stop the smart o' ne'er a wound, sword-cut, or stab

o' bagganet :
Honner ain't wuth a cent ixcept to them ez lives to brag
on it.

Neow, of I goes to fight the South, jest s'pose a Bather
gashes me.
A jagged fragment of a shell rips up or round shot smashes
me,
Then, when I'm forced to bite the duet in misery, and
sprawl about,
I reckon honner aint't the thing I'm like to think at all
about.

Not of I wus the Gin'ral's self, and know'd when I was

gone you meant
Above my mangled carkies for to stick a marble monument,
Instead o' scrapin, where I fell, a foot or so o' mould on me,
Or leavin' me for sun to bake, a' varmin to get hold on me.
Don't think I'll volunteer for you to conker the ascendant

oi7henithat's
me,amu ncohrdtaigerhstansdwe
youto fflourishorce a manindependentnw jtn
An' of you press
That ain't the sort of sojer, quite, for being killed an' killin'.
Press me, destroy my liberty, then you are the aggres‘sor
I holds my deadliest enemy, my tyrant, my oppressor.
Make me a military slave, a warfarin' white nigger on
Mind that it ain't yourself I draws the bead, and pulls the
trigger on.

HEALTH OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
—From inquiries made yesterday it has been ascertained
that serious fears are entertained with reference to the life
of the Archbishop of Canterbury. His grace is lying at his
palace, at Addington, near Croydon, completely prostrated;
and it is said that, although he may from time to time
rally, there is, humanly speaking, no chance of his ultimate
recovery, or of his again being able to perform any episcopal
function requiring personal energy. During the last few
weeks the archbishop has been subjected to a succession of
severe epileptic fits, indeed some of them have been so seri-
ous as to lead the medical men who are in attendance to
believe that nothing but death could result from them. The
archbishop, however, has been until his recent illness a
man of great phystcal strength—a strength which now, at
the age of 8?, is rapidly failing. His grace was translated
from the Bishopric of Chester to the Archbishopric of
Canterbury on the death of Dr. Howley, in 1848.

FRIGHTFUL OCCURRENCF.—An accident oc-
curred yesterday afternoon to Henry Caslon, a soap boiler
in the employ of Haydon and Sons, Millwall, Poplar, who,
while imprudently crossing a narrow plink which cot nmu-
nicated from one boiling pan to another, suddenly slipped,
and was precipitated into the boiling fat. The pan he. fell
into was not more than half full, but his lower extremities
were so shockingly scalded that large pieces of flesh came
off with the stockings and trousers. He was removed to
the hospital in a deplorable condition.
The Semaphore of Marseilles publishes the follow-
ing explanation of the manner in which Garibaldi obtained
possession of the steamer General Abbatucci, which con-
veyed him to Melito :—" The General Abbatucci belongs
to the Valery Company, whose offices are at Marseilles.
This company has a contract for carrying the mails be-
tween Genoa, Naples, and Sicily, for the Italian Govern.
went. It is to be remarked that all these ships carry the
French flag. The agent of the company publishes and
distributes a monthly notice of the arrival and departure
of the boats at the several ports. According to the notice
for the month of August the General Abbatucci was to ar-
rive at Catania on the 24th, whence it should have sailed
on the same day for Messina; from Messina it was to have
carried the mails to Naples, Leghorn, and Genoa. As these
monthly notices are posted in each town, the expected ar-
rival of the General Abbatucci at Catania on. the 24th was
I well known to Garibaldi. It was thus that on that morn-
ing Garibaldi and his volunteers took possession of the
steamer, notwithstanding the protest of Captain Saettoni,
and compelled him to land them at Melito. After the vo-
lunteers had landed the captain was permitted to sail for
Messina, where he received the mails for Naples, Leghorn,
and Genoa. When the steamer arrived at Naples, the
captain aild crew were committed to prison and the ship
was seized."
THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITIGN.—The number
of visitors at the Exhibition yesterday was :
By season tickets ................ 3,643
Ditto for ls. days ............... . . 803
Bypayment ..................... 47,742

Total ~,,,,,,
52►188

(From Punch )
" My dear Punch,—By 'he kindness of my friend Crack-
shot, who has Governmental influence, I have enjoyed a
day's blackcock shooting down at Coolmer Forest, and for
the benefit of Cockney sportsmen like myself, I purpose
now to give you some account of my enjoyment. Coolmer,
as of course you know, is near the old coach-road to Sherys-
mouth ; and, if any of the old coaches had been extant on
that road, I think they would have carried us pretty
well as quickly, and certainly more smoothly than the
railway caraiage did which we were forced to travel by.
Remembering the old saying about the early bird, and
believing that the Blackcock family were birds that got up
early, and might then best be met with, we passed the night
at Nosehook, or a place of some such name, and started for
our shooting in the cool of the morning, with the ther-
motneter at scarcely more than ninety in the shade. Our
virtue in performing this feat of early rising proved to be
its own reward, for nothing else rewarded it. With the
exception of a donkey, whom a short. sighted sportsman
might have shot at as a deer, the only game we found is
the first hour and a half was a couple of wild ducks, which
we might certainly have bagged if they had but been tame
ones. But except Sir William Armstrong's, I know of no
breechloader that will kill at half a mile, and this is usually
the distance at which wildfowl think it safe to rise and fly
aw ty from one.
" I don't know how M'Gregor felt when he had his foot
upon his native heath; but I must say for myself that
walking on a moor is not by any means so easy as walking
along Moorgate• street. Perhaps wading is a fitter name to
give to it than walking, for one is more than half submer-
ged in a perfect sea of heather, and every here and there
one flounders into scarcely fathomable deeps, where a sports-
man of small stature becomes totally immersed. Crackt•hot,
who has legs of about the length of lamp-posts, of course
progressed more favourably than I could hope to do, and I
fear that there was more of sarcasm than sympathy in his
repeated queries as to how were my poor feet.