34 GUN, PIFLE, AND HOUND. 



Now the Elms was a smaller house of ours, at the 

 other end of the property. It was at this time un- 

 occupied. Not many days had elapsed before I had 

 induced the speaker to make time to go down with me. 

 We took a terrier with us. 



The garden in question was surrounded by a wall, 

 and had only one gate, opening into an orchard. 



" You'm best stop here," said the labourer to me, 

 " an' I'll take Nip into the garden. If he'm there, he'm 

 bound to come out of gate. He do mostly be among 

 the cabbages." 



I ensconced myself carefully behind a large apple- 

 tree and waited. Presently I heard the terrier yelp, 

 and my heart beat quick. Yes, there was the rabbit. 

 He came slowly out under the gate and crossed the 

 orchard. Just as he passed me, he sat up to consider 

 the position. That sealed his fate ; bang went the gun, 

 and my first rabbit rolled over squealing. Need I say 

 how I rushed towards him, and danced round him, 

 while dealing him blows with the gun-stock that would 

 have killed a wolf ? Then I held him up in triumph ; 

 surely the finest rabbit that ever was seen. Looking 

 back by the light of past experience, I am inclined to 

 think it was really rather a diminutive specimen. Up 

 came my grinning ally and the excited dog. Then, 

 of course, I hastened home to dash into the drawing- 

 room and display my booty to everybody. Since 

 those days the old home has been filled with many an 

 antler and many a skin, but I doubt if one of them 

 has given me the pleasure to obtain that my first 

 rabbit did. 



