24 The Confessions of a 'Poacher. 



and woods ; but our extended knowledge of 

 the dogs came in after years. 



The oak gun-rack in our old home con- 

 tained a motley collection of fowling pieces, 

 mostly with the barrels filed down. This was 

 that the pieces might be more conveniently 

 stowed away in the pocket until it was 

 policy to have them out. The guns showed 

 every graduation in age, size, and make, and 

 among them was an old flint-lock which had 

 been in the family for generations. This heir- 

 loom was often surreptitiously stolen away, 

 and then we were able to bring down larger 

 game. Wood pigeons were waited for in the 

 larches, and shot as they came to roost. The 

 crakes were called by the aid of a small 

 " crank," and shot as they emerged from the 

 lush summer grass. Large numbers of green 

 plover were bagged from time to time, and 

 often in winter we had a chance at their grey 

 cousins, the whistling species. Both these fed 

 in the water-meadows through winter, and 

 the former were always abundant. In 

 spring, " trips" of rare dotterel often led us 



