THOMAS EDWARD. 63 



Night after night, in the spring and summer-time, 

 after he had been working hard at his bench during 

 the day, he would snatch a hasty supper of cheese and 

 bread, and then he would start on his rambles, taking 

 with him, besides the things named above, an old rusty 

 gun, with the barrel tied to the stock with stout twine, 

 and spend the nights out of doors, resting often, during 

 the hours of darkness, under a favourite gravestone in 

 the Boyndie churchyard, near Banff. He was a perfect 

 conundrum to his neighbours. They could not bring 

 themselves to give him the poacher, but they were 

 mystified at his nightly excursions and odd habits. 



In addition to making his miscellaneous collection, 

 he grew quite a capital taxidermist, and could produce 

 some good specimens of stuffed birds, rats, and other 

 animals which came in his way. One of the receptacles 

 in which he would place his " takings " was his hat, 

 and this used to be full on these nocturnal wanderings 

 of a very " olla podrida ' of insects, birds, and other 

 specimens of natural history. He could not, of course, 

 go out on these visits night after night without meeting 

 with some adventures, and these he very frequently met 

 with. He received many bites from weasels and rats, 

 and on one occasion he was very near being injured by 

 several badgers. One adventure with a pole-cat I may 

 mention. He was lying out of doors near to the ruined 

 castle of the Boyne, a favourite haunt of his, above five 

 miles west of Banff. He was awakened from his sleep 

 by a patting about his legs. He thought it was a rabbit 

 or a rat, and moved his legs sharply, and so thought he 

 would get rid of it. The animal would not, however, 



