Inside, I breathe an air charged with burnt powder and behold in a long row, many rifles mounted upon crutches, their muzzles levelled at so many targets. Beside each rifle stand two men, one to sight and correct, and one to fire and watch the effect of the shot by means of a telescope fixed to hand.
With the nearest of these men I incontinent fell into talk — a chatty fellow this, who, busied with pliers adjusting the backsight of a rifle, talked to me of lines of sight and angles of deflection, his remarks sharply punctuated by rifle-shots, that came now slowly, now in twos and threes and now in rapid volleys.
"Yes, sir," said he, busy pliers never still, "guns and rifles is very like us — you and me, say. Some is just naturally good and some is worse than bad — load up, George! A new rifle's like a kid — pretty sure to fire a bit wide at first — not being used to it — we was all kids once, sir, remember! But a bit of correction here an' there'll put that right as a rule. On