I soon found myself greatly interested in archery, especially when I succeeded in planting
an arrow somewhere within the periphery of the target, but I never became such an
enthusiast in bow-shooting as my friend Pepton.
If Pepton could have arranged matters to suit himself, he would have been born an archer.
But as this did not happen to have been the case, he employed every means in his power
to rectify what he considered this serious error in his construction. He gave his whole
soul, and the greater part of his spare time, to archery, and as he was a young man of
energy, this helped him along wonderfully.
His equipments were perfect. No one could excel him in, this respect. His bow was
snakewood, backed with hickory. He carefully rubbed it down every evening with oil and
beeswax, and it took its repose in a green baize bag. His arrows were Philip Highfield's
best, his strings the finest Flanders hemp. He had shooting-gloves, and little leather tips
that could be screwed fast on the ends of what he called his string-fingers. He had a
quiver and a belt, and when equipped for the weekly meetings, he carried a fancy-colored
wiping-tassel, and a little ebony grease- pot hanging from his belt. He wore, when
shooting, a polished arm-guard or bracer, and if he had heard of anything else that an
archer should have, he straightway would have procured it.
Pepton was a single man, and he lived with two good old maiden ladies, who took as
much care of him as if they had been his mothers. And he was such a good, kind fellow
that he deserved all the attention they gave him. They felt a great interest in his archery
pursuits, and shared his anxious solicitude in the selection of a suitable place to hang his
bow.
"You see," said he, "a fine bow like this, when not in use, should always be in a perfectly
dry place."
"And when in use, too," said Miss Martha, "for I am sure that you oughtn't to be standing
and shooting in any damp spot. There's no surer way of gettin' chilled."
To which sentiment Miss Maria agreed, and suggested wearing rubber shoes, or having a
board to stand on, when the club met after a rain.
Pepton first hung his bow in the hall, but after he had arranged it symmetrically upon two
long nails (bound with green worsted, lest they should scratch the bow through its
woollen cover), he reflected that the front door would frequently be open, and that damp
drafts must often go through the hall. He was sorry to give up this place for his bow, for it
was convenient and appropriate, and for an instant he thought that it might remain, if the
front door could be kept shut, and visitors admitted through a little side door which the
family generally used, and which was almost as convenient as the other--except, indeed,
on wash-days, when a wet sheet or some article of wearing apparel was apt to be hung in
front of it. But although wash-day occurred but once a week, and although it was
comparatively easy, after a little practice, to bob under a high-propped sheet, Pepton's
heart was too kind to allow his mind to dwell upon this plan. So he drew the nails from
