ake a sharp aim, and fire right and left
barrels at those two targets."

My heart beat fast as I did as my uncle bade me, feeling two sharp thuds
on my shoulder, and then as I stared through the smoke I expected to see
the two white targets covered with shot marks.

"Better luck next time, Nat," said my uncle smiling.

"Haven't I hit them, uncle?" I said in dismay.

"No, my boy; one charge ploughed up the sawdust below the target on the
right, and the other scored the white-washed wall three feet to the left
of the second target."

"But do you think it is a good gun, uncle? I aimed quite straight."

"We'll see, Nat," he replied, taking the gun from my hand, and reloading
it with a quick cleverness of hand that fascinated me.

Then raising the gun he fired both barrels in rapid succession, hardly
seeming to take aim, and as the smoke rose above our heads we all walked
towards the targets, which looked like currant dumplings.

The man with us rubbed his hands with satisfaction, saying that it was a
capital close pattern, which my uncle afterwards explained to me meant
that the shot marks were very close and regular all over the targets,
instead of being scattered irregularly, which he said was a great
disadvantage in a gun.

"I don't think, sir, that you'll find many guns do better than that,
sir; and, if you'll excuse me for saying so, I don't think many
gentlemen would have made two such clever shots."

"There is no cleverness in it," said my uncle quietly. "When a man
spends all his days with a gun in his hand it becomes like second nature
to him to hit that at which he aims. Yes, I like the gun. Now, Nat,
what do you say--which was in fault last time?"

"I was, uncle," I said rather ruefully. "I thought it would be so easy
to shoot."

"So it is, my boy, when you have had practice. Now come back and we
will not lose any more time in selecting pieces. You shall have that
gun and that rifle, and we will have a couple of hours' practice at
loading and firing."

We walked back to the table, and as we did so I saw a man thrust a
long-handled brush from a loophole at the side of the wall and whiten
the targets once more.

"You decide upon those two pieces, then, sir," said the gunmaker; and my
uncle bowed his head.

I noticed then how quiet he seemed when away from home, speaking very
little but always to the purpose; a habit, I suppose, acquired from his
long and solitary life abroad.

He then s