Toast to a young gun

Three of us, old friends, were meeting to arrange a marriage. The young couple have never actually met. Indeed, they are still unaware of one other’s existence. But it is so obviously a union endorsed by the heavens. Young Florence King has already been heralded in this column. At least since the infancy — did she have one? — of Diana, Huntress and Goddess, no four-year-old girl has ever shown so much interest in field sports. In Ireland, Florence is a bisexual name. One feels that our Florry must be a kinswoman of the immortal Flurry Knox.

The bridegroom will be Charlie. At the age of seven, he climbed a tree and killed a pigeon with his bare hands. When his father regaled a club table with the story, there was general scepticism. Go for a walk, unarmed; pigeons will trill and wink at you from low branches and near fences.