I knew the applicant very well & had no qualms about his character. As someone who grew up in a rural environment I was used to the idea of people having shotguns for the control of vermin, which in those days included rabbit. Rabbit pie was a favourite, as were my rabbit skin mittens which were a present from my great grandparents when I was about 4 years old; hunting was what baby Bunting’s daddy did. The person I signed the form for had just one shotgun, a couple of trained dogs, went shooting partly as a hobby, partly as a part time occupation helping out friends with smallholdings or farms.
I did half expect a policeman to call, asking questions about the applicant, like the men in mackintoshes do if you ever agree to referee someone who has to be positively vetted, but no, I heard no more until I was asked to perform the same service for my friend’s son.
I began to have qualms when asked to sign for the sons best mate; it seemed churlish to refuse, but if word spread & more requests came I would be in a very difficult position.
Although I signed my unease communicated itself, so whether it was for that reason or because the rules were tightened, I have never been asked to sign another.
Bye, baby Bunting,
Daddy’s gone a-hunting,
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap the baby Bunting in
Bye, baby Bunting
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