A Farmer’s Life 
After telling of the owls whose nests he used 
to rob in “‘ the old pollard” at Farnborough, he 
strayed into talk about animal life in general. 
Of owls themselves first. He had learnt their 
value. ‘‘ Anybody as kills one ought to have a 
month for it.” For they prey on the little 
“vowls ”’ (rhyme to “ fowls’) that do so much 
harm in grass land, gnawing just under the roots. 
For weasels and stoats also he entertained a real 
respect. He would not have them destroyed ; 
nor yet even hedgehogs. For the last-named, it 
is true, he had to confess some dislike: in a 
pasture with cows he felt hedgehogs out of place. 
But he owned that he had no evidence against 
them, and was probably biassed by old country 
tales. 
Once more he spoke of the pluck of weasels, 
as I have already told, and he also remarked on 
the horrible stench weasels throw out when hard 
pressed. Then he discoursed of partridges and 
their large broods—eighteen or twenty in a 
covey; and of hares. One hare, while he was 
still at the farm, a man had shot and given to 
him, ‘‘ because she was too big to carry away” 
secretly. For this man was “no sportsman ’”’; 
he had “smooched” the hare. My uncle, 
paunching it, had found within two families. 
There were leverets just ready for birth; and 
there were others, much younger. ‘“ The 
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