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Mr Jabberjee concludes the thrilling account of his experiences on a Scotch moor, greatly to his own glorification.
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XXV
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Now to resume the rather arbitrarily truncated account of my gunnery on Scottish moors.
Before luncheon I ventured to remonstrate earnestly with my entertainer, Mr Bagshot, Q.C., concerning the extreme severity with which he chastised a juvenile sporting hound of his for such trivial offences as running after some rabbit, or picking up slaughtered volatiles without receiving the mot d'ordre!
"Listen, honourable Sir," I entreated him, "to the voice of Reason! It is the second nature of all such canines to pursue vermins, nor are they at all capable of comprehending the Why and Wherefore of a shocking flagellation. If it is your wish that this hound should play the part of a Tantalus, forbidden even to touch the bonne-bouches with his watering mouth, surely it is possible to restrain him by a more humane method than Brute Force!"
At this mild reproof Mister Bagshot became utterly rubescent, murmuring excuses which I
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