Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/641958
rough from sitting in the corner of the crib when you thought not to clean it. Until your folks found out, and you never forgot that again. The bluing's probably gone and the trigger's a little slack. But it's all honest collateral, yourself inflicted, and you'd give your eye teeth some days to have back the squirrel hunts and the rabbit hunts and woodpeckers and first wood duck you ever kilt, and the scent of your Granma's kitchen before you went, and the freckles you had on your face when you did it. And most of all, your Granpa, there by your side with the lantern, when you shot your first coon or possum out. And killed thirteen black birds in the corn with one shot that time, or your first quail over Ol' Sam's point that afternoon in December, with the woods as quiet as prayer, the sky all gray and the first snowflakes sifting down. And, of course, the day he handed it to you when you were almost grown, not long before he left—before he said even a word—when the message in his eyes told you it was about to be yours. He wanted you to have it, cause it was a part of you both—and maybe he didn't have much else to leave you—and he knew it was the most special thing he had and always would be. Because each time you chambered a shell, you'd also be chambering the memories. Thinking of what he said: "We've had good times, Boy. Me and you and this little gun. Don't let nobody or nothing ever take either one of 'em away from you. They're more important than most the people, and all of the money in the world. "You've had the best of me, and I've had you, and this gun is the thing we've always had together that nobody else can. "Always remember that. And wherever I am, I'll smile and know I'm still here." Fine? Nothing short of sterling. I bet you got a special place you keep it, right there by the Parkers and the Purdeys, and that you take it out often—sometimes when you're reaching for something else—bring it to shoulder and bear down on that bushytail way up there top-a that gum tree. And wish it all over again, before you gently return it to the shelf. S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S 1 8