Gwyon's Present

Every summer the little town of Bisley, Surrey, has its day in the news when hawk-eyed, steady-handed sharpshooters assemble from all over the world to shoot for the King's prize. The famed ranges of the National Rifle Association are at Bisley, and Bisley is to shooting what St. Andrews is to golf.*

Deadshots who annually arrive at Bisley station with their gun cases, their wind gauges, their range finders, telescopes and tallow candles (for blackening front sights) never notice Bisley village, never notice Bisley church, and they have positively ignored Dr. John Gwyon, rector of Bisley Church for 33 years.

Four months ago the Reverend Gwyon, brooding upon his insignificance, made his will and hanged himself in the Old Rectory on Christmas Eve. Last week the will was probated, and immediately Bisley Church, Bisley village, and the late Dr. John Gwyon, achieved prominence entirely apart from the rifle butts. Ten thousand pounds ($50,000) was left by the strangulated cleric "to buy breeches for worthy boys of Bisley Village." None of the money can be used for any other purpose.

"Each lucky boy," so reads the will, "must have the words 'GWYON'S PRESENT' written in capital letters sewn in the lining of his breeches." Sports knickers are not allowed.

*"I expect you'll be starting up the Bisley matches again, now the War's over," said the son of an N. R. A. official shortly after the Armistice. "Yes, of course," replied the father, ''but we can't expect many good scores. There hasn't been any really serious shooting since the War began."