140 A LONELY STRANGER 



tory creatures who nightly ravaged the country 

 and often returned supperless to their lairs. The 

 hare knew of their forays from the trails. He 

 had crossed two on his way back from the 

 Down ; this very night he leapt the burning line 

 of a stoat-pack just before turning aside whilst 

 the farmer rode past. Close to Crowz-an-Wra 

 he stopped to browse on the bushes, standing 

 on his hind legs and reaching as high as he 

 could to get at the tender shoots. 



Eager, however, as he was to satisfy his 

 hunger, he was alive to everything around, and 

 kept pricking his ears at the noise of the 

 merriment from the cottages with windows 

 all aglow from turnip lantern, rushlight, and the 

 blaze of furze fire. For Crowz-an-Wra was 

 keeping Christmas Eve with its customary 

 cheer, little dreaming of the lonely stranger at 

 their doors. At his slowest pace the hare passed 

 through the village ; he was no more alarmed 

 by the illumination of the cottages than by the 

 splendour of the heaven. 



Just beyond the milestone he frisked and 

 frolicked, and in the same high spirits galloped 

 along the track as far as the granite cross, 

 where, in his leverethood, he had scampered up 

 and down the then dusty way under the eyes of 

 his mother. At the cross he stood and listened 



