FOREST TITHES 13 
another set out as thet 'ere fur all the spring chicken 
as iver wus hatched. I wus feared the Squire wud 
ha' got hold on't. A good master he wus, but he 
showed no marcy to any thet hed killed a fox on 
his grounds, an' they run middlin' wide.' 
' Mother kep' her fowls for market,' resumed the 
old man ' they paid middlin', most special in airly 
spring time ; 'twus jest sich a winter as this 'ere, an' 
some o' them fowls went. She wus 'mazin' vexed, 
for they kep' on goin'. I knowed 'twus a fox, but 
didn't let on to mother, on'y one mornin' she seed 
him cum slippin' roun' on the snow. Thet did it. 
When I come home to supper that same night she 
looks me most oncommon straight in the face, an' 
she says, " Kill that 'ere thing, father, or 'twill ruin us." 
She wus middlin' spirity that time o' day, I ken tell 
ye, an' I knowed she meant what she said. Well, to 
cut it short, I got one o' mother's oldest hens, an' fixed 
her up so as the fox could see her, in an empy pig- 
stye. Right in front o' the old hen, about a foot 
away, wus a trap a real good un. We went to 
bed, and in the middle o' the night we wus 'woke 
by the most desprit row. " Father," sez mother,. 
" you've ketched thet 'ere varmint o' a fox. Git 
up, an' take a prong wi' yer." (Prong is local for 
pitchfork.} 
