292 REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN. 



Small thought had I, when writing the foregoing 

 lines, that a day would come when hundreds of these 

 innocent creatures would be reduced to this state and 

 left to die of starvation through an act of parliament ; 

 and that, instead of taking seasonable time to exter- 

 minate the deer summer and winter, open day, and 

 " fence month," would be made alike available for 

 their hasty destruction. However, reader, I have 

 shown you the forest in June in its happier hour : 

 now look at it in the summer of 1853. We will pass 

 the cottage before described. A cross and haggard- 

 looking woman sits at the door amidst a squalid lot 

 of squalling children : there is neither cow nor pig 

 near the house ; for, though it is now one of the 

 months when the forest pasturage is oj^en, the recent 

 law would not permit the milch cow to have its run 

 all the year round, so, at a time when it was worth 

 little in the market, the owners were forced to sell 

 it. The cottage fence was broken down, weeds had 

 grown up in the place of vegetables and the few 

 flowers, and even the bee-hives had perished or fallen 

 into decay. Let us stop, and ask this woman a question. 



" Dame, where is your husband?" 



" Alas! Sir, he is in prison." 



"What for?" 



" Why, Sii', it's a long tale, and a sad one for me. 

 We have a large family to maintain, and when pro- 

 visions, at one time, got so cheap, and farm produce 

 and wheat was so low, wages fell likewise ; so that 

 we were not a bit better off than when we had more 

 wages, and things was dearer. Worse off, indeed, 

 we were; for the other tradesmen, of whom we had to 

 purchase necessaries, did not reduce their charges 

 according to provisions and wages. However, we 



