Chorus. 
And Jack, Jim and Joe
Give the maid chaste as snow
That is true as a shot to her lad!

The customary applause having followed this vocal attempt of Sniggs, he was asked for a toast or a sentiment.

“Here’s—­’May the charitable man never know the want of—­’shot.’” said Sniggs.

“Excellent!” exclaimed Saggers, approvingly; “By Jupiter Tonans, Sniggs, you’re a true son of—­a gun!”

The “Crack-shots.”—­No.  III.

“Sich a lark!” said Bill Sorrel, breaking abruptly in upon the noisy chorus, miscalled a general conversation; “sich a lark!”

“Where?” demanded Saggers.

“You’ve jist hit it,” replied Sorrel, “for it vere worry near ’Vare vhere it happened.  I’d gone hout hearly, you know, and had jist cotched sight of a bird a-vistling on a twig, and puttered the vords, ’I’ll spile your singin’, my tight ‘un,’ and levelled of my gun, ven a helderly gentleman, on t’other side of the bank vich vos atween me and the bird, pops up his powdered noddle in a jiffy, and goggling at me vith all his eyes, bawls pout in a tantivy of a fright, ‘You need’nt be afear’d, sir,’ says I, ’I aint a-haiming at you,’ and vith that I pulls my trigger-bang!  Vell, I lost my dicky! and ven I looks for the old ’un, by Jingo!  I’d lost him too.  So I mounts the bank vere he sot, but he vas’nt there; so I looks about, and hobserves a dry ditch at the foot, and cocking my eye along it, vhy, I’m blessed, if I did’nt see the old fellow a-scampering along as fast as his legs could carry him.  Did’nt I laugh, ready to split—­that’s all!”

“I tell you what, Sorrel,” said the president, with mock gravity, “I consider the whole affair, however ridiculous, most immoral and reprehensible.  What, shall a crack-shot make a target of an elder?  Never!  Let us seek more appropriate butts for our barrels!  You may perhaps look upon the whole as a piece of pleasantry but let me tell you that you ran a narrow chance of being indicted for a breach of the peace!  And remember, that even shooting a deer may not prove so dear a shot as bringing down an old buck!”

This humorous reproof was applauded by a “bravo!” from the whole club.

Sorrel sang—­small, and Sniggs sang another sporting ditty.

“Our next meeting,” resumed Saggers, “is on Thursday next when the pigeon-match takes place for a silver-cup—­the ‘Crack Shots’ against the ‘Oriental Club.’  I think we shall give them I taste of our quality,’ although we do not intend that they shall lick us.  The silver-cup is their own proposal.  The contest being a pigeon-match, I humbly proposed, as an amendment, that the prize should be a tumbler—­which I lost by a minority of three.  In returning thanks, I took occasion to allude to their rejection of my proposition, and ironically thanked them for having cut my tumbler.”

“Werry good!” shouted Sorrel.

“Admirable!” exclaimed Sniggs; and, rising with due solemnity, he proposed the health of the “worthy president,” prefacing his speech with the modest avowal of his inability to do what he still persisted in doing and did.