PARTRIDGE POACHING. 



bloom on the brambles ; the ripening 

 of the nuts ; and the ruddiness of the 

 corn all acted as reminders that the 

 " fence" time was rapidly drawing to a close. 

 So much did the first frosts quicken us that it 

 was dfficult to resist throwing up our farm work 

 before the game season was fairly upon us. 

 There was only one way in which we could curb 

 the wild impulse within. We stood up to the 

 golden corn and smote it from the rising to the 

 going down of the sun. The hunters' moon tried 



