BRITISH GAME-BIRDS. 195 



frequented highroad, not singly, but in twos and 

 threes dotted about ? No one knows why, but they 

 do this. And the strangest part of it is, they very 

 rarely come to grief in such open places. I certainly 

 have known of one such case, but that was excus- 

 able. A merry party were returning from a great 

 rabbit-shooting on the borders of Sussex, and most 

 of them were young fellows. As it was drawing 

 near Christmas time, they were chatting about the 

 pleasant duties to be performed at this festive time, 

 the sacred rites of mistletoe, for one, was discussed. 

 When they were nearing home, and the horses were 

 trotting sharply, one of them said, " Look at that 

 bunch of mistletoe in front, just overhead ! Pull up, 

 driver, one of us will shoot that down ; hold the 

 horses tight in. You shoot, Harry," was said to 

 one of the party ; " you know very well you want it 

 more than we do." 



The young fellow got out of the trap, they handed 

 him his gun, he aimed and fired, and down tumbled 

 a fine cock pheasant. 



"Pick him up!" "Jump in!" "You're a nice 

 mistletoe poacher, you are," cried his friends. 

 " Driver, let the horses go ! " 



