Carol H. Turvey,  “The Hunters”

The Washington Post, Washington, D.C., November 11, 1910
A hunter popped a partridge on a hill; It made a great to-do, and then was still. It seems (when later on his bag he spied) It was the guide. One shot a squirrel in a nearby wood— A pretty shot, offhand, from where he stood. (It wore, they said, a shooting hat of brown, And lived in town.) And one dispatched a rabbit for his haul That later proved to measure 6 feet tall! And, lest you think I'm handing you a myth— Its name was Smith. Another Nimrod slew the champion fox. He glimpsed him lurking in among the rocks. One rapid shot! It never spoke nor moved, The inquest proved. A "cautious" man espied a gleam of brown; Was it a deer—or Jones, a friend from town? But while he pondered by the river's rim Jones potted him.
Added August 14, 2026. Originally published in the Philadelphia Ledger. It's likely that the short lines are really continuations of the previous lines ("still", "spied"), but the form is so consistent I chose to keep them as printed. JV