THE SPORTSMAN IN FRANCE. 255 



slung across his shoulders, and moreover 

 (to use the words of a popular and soul- 

 subduing ditty, under the attractive title 

 of " Tow, row, row,") 



" A brace of pistols in his belt, 

 For to shoot the man wot — " 



dared to set his foot in his master's bois 

 without leave. 



This ogre in appearance, to assist him 

 in his flight across the ditches, carried a 

 huge leaping-pole, some twelve feet in 

 length. He approached us at a pace that 

 set at nought any attempt on our part to 

 escape, albeit we were provided with 

 younger legs. He was altogether the 

 most formidable looking fellow I ever 

 beheld. 



On coming up to us, we were assailed 

 by such a lengthened vocabulary of French 

 oaths, that, if translated, would dumb- 

 found all the fish-fags in Billingsgate. 



