THE VALUE OF WOLLASTON GOESE. 137 



inmate of the asylum, rather thinner but as yeomanly 

 as ever. His greeting to me was peculiar from a 

 singular expression of delight in seeing me, coupled 

 with some sense of great obligation which he seemed 

 to think himself under. I talked to him kindly, and 

 continued to draw for a fox, my ears laid back in 

 expectation of the old holloa. No false holloa from 

 him was ever again heard, and during that day, in 

 approaching a gate, the yeoman was ever at hand to 

 open it, dismounting sometimes when his horse was 

 fidgetty, to stand with it in his hand. Once or twice 

 I had begged him not thus to trouble himself; but 

 on hearing him say as if to himself, " it would indeed 

 be odd if I did not w^atch every opportunity to serve 

 you," I asked him "AVhy?" He replied, with tears 

 in his eyes, " Can I ever thank you sufficiently for 

 the kind visit you paid me when they shut me up ? I 

 never should have got out again but for you, but should 

 have been there now." I said, " Oh ! no ! j^ou would 

 have recovered without me;" he shook his liead, and 

 from that day to this I have never seen him. It 

 seemed that in the state of his mind, when we met at 

 the asylum, he had imbibed an impression that my 

 visit was exclusively to him, and as from that moment 

 he gradually recovered his reason, that impression 

 became confirmed. 



There was a very nice gorse cover at Wollaston, 

 which was supposed to be under the care of Mr. 

 Dickens, then the reverend pastor of that Ilk, though 

 but once did I ever find a fox in it. Whenever I 

 saw Mr. Dickens, I used to say, " AYell, what have 

 you got in your gorse ?" and the reply invariably was, 

 " There may be a rabbit ; but the only thing certain 

 in it is a poaching shoemaker." Shoeraaking is a 



