

THE POACHEHS. 255 



Just as the flacket was replenished, the old 'Squire walked into the 

 kitchen, and said, " You will remain here until morning, and I hope 

 you will conduct yourselves orderly. (To the keeper's assistants) 

 You may now go to your homes, if you have had sufficient refresh- 

 ment." 



" We will stay for a month," answered Woodcock, " if your honour 

 wishes; I'm sure I shall never be tired." 



The 'Squire smiled and retired. The farmer-men seemed to go 

 with great reluctance as Mary was just furnishing us with pipes 

 and tobacco. 



The stranger was motioned by Mary into the drawing-room. 

 Woodcock's sharp eye was on the look out. " Do you see ought ?" 

 said he. The young game-keeper knit his brows, and commenced 

 drumming upon the table and whistling " Be gone, dull care." 

 No doubt he thought the jade was gilting him. Mike began to grow 

 merry, and sang 



" The very first night we had bad luck, 

 One of my very best dogs got stuck ; 

 (He came to me all over bloody and lame,) 



Woodcock looked at his dog as it lay basking on the hearth 



" And sorry was I to see the same ; 

 He was not able to follow the game. 



Woodcock, Smith, and the gamekeeper, here took up the chorus' 



Fal the dal da, the ri fol ad a de. 



" I'll take my pike-staff in my hand, 

 And I'll search the woods till I find that man, 

 And tan his hide right well if I can. 



Fal the dal da, the ri fol ad a de." 



Here the game-keeper " looked a look" at Woodcock, and began to 

 rub his shoulder, as if the stave had again conjured up the poacher's 

 blows. 



Smith now commenced singing 



" Oh, its my delight, on a shiny night, 

 In the season of the year," 



" The mirth and glee grew fast and furious," the keeper had fallen 

 asleep with his head upon the table, unconscious of the candle which 

 was burning a hole in his hat. Mike had long since seen double, 

 and had twice lifted up the drinking-horn to light his pipe with, 

 spilling the contents upon his inexpressibles. Smith laid snoring with 

 his elbows in a puddle of home-brewed, which had rolled from the cup 

 as his unsteady hand lifted it to his forehead instead of his mouth ; 

 still Woodcock sat singing, with his eyes shut, and the headless pipe 

 resting upon his lip, until his head gradually reclined against the high 

 chair back, and his mouth rested in the same position as when the 

 last words of " Poor Tom Moody" very faintly left his lips. 



There they were, happy as kings, forgetful that game-laws or pri- 

 sons were extant on the earth. 



