DECEMBER IN SROALLAND. 139 



why shouldn't I have some fun in life jest as well as the rich 'uns ? They abuse 

 us for destroyin' a few head o' game they can kill 'em by the hundred. What 

 feeds theer bards but the farmer's corn ? an' he dussn't open his mouth tu say 

 so! Theer bards! ha! ha! ain't them phaysents an' pa'tridges on one man's 

 field tu-day, and on another's tu-morrow ? Them as they belong tu, why doan't 

 they mark 'em ? Cud any on 'em sware tu a bard, and say as sich an' sich a one 

 wor theer own pertikler property ? If they're theers, says I, why doan't they keep 

 'em at home? Wai, I may be wrong, but I like the fun an' excitement: the sight 

 of a long-tailed 'un asleep on a tree-branch sets me all afire. 



1 All right, guv'ner, yow doan't need tu feel unaisy. Trew ! a man's known by 

 the comp'ny he keeps; butDuke'll see as we shan't be overlooked. (He whistles, 

 and a scraggy, but faithful lurcher, which has been till now in hiding, glides up to, 

 and takes its place behind him.) Yow'll keep sentry, oan't yer, Duke ? (The dog 

 answers by lifting a paw and wagging its tail in a cautious manner.) 



' Talk about dawgs Duke's as knowingsome as most. He never sells hisself 

 by barkin', he kin trace an' bring in a hare like a Christian; and he never recker- 

 nise me in comp'ny, an'll even pass me in the street as if we was the biggest 

 strangers. 'Bor, he can tell mischief a-brewin' afore I can. 



( Ah, 'bor, I hev had some rare du's in my time. Let me light my pipe, and 

 I tell yer of one or tew. I once made a good haul on yin island. It war thiswise, 

 I know'd as how a lot of * longtails ' was roosting in theer at nights, for I'd seed 

 'em flyin' over at even-time. They was snug-like ; theer wasn't no stoats, nor rats, 

 or sich-like to worrit 'em. Law ! it wor tantalisin' tu see 'em whizzin' over the bit 

 o' water, and turnin' in all serene. One night I watched the keeper off the beat, and 

 slippin' my old gun where she now is (see, I've got her here half in each pocket) 

 I nips down to the Broad. Theer wasn't much mune (moon), but jest enough tu 

 distinguish this from that. The Broad wor hard friz ; an' snow lay thick. My 

 fut-marks 'ud tell a tale, so I jest off wi' my butes an' stockin's an' rewerses 'em- 

 stocks outside, yer know; then I wraps some rushes round 'em. Yow wouldn't ha' 

 known my tracks from a elliphant's. Theer they wor, snoozin' in the trees. I 

 pops over a dozen right quick, and off I cum ; I hops ashore, strike off across some 

 fields, makin' most of my way across tangled places an' aside the holls, and makes 

 for hoam ; I found old Cubitt's dickey wanderin' in a lane; on him I jumped, 

 makin' him trot me the remainder of my jarney. Tu bustle him off with a kick 

 or tew as he'll remember tu his dyin' day, tu hang my bards in the chimbley 

 (chimney), pop intu bed, and get tu snorin' wor the work of a few rninnets. An' 



