146 The Amateiir Poacher. 



round the place ; and the tame town pigeons have 

 fluttered down, and walk with nodding heads almost 

 up to them. These pigeons always come to the 

 edge of a group of people, mindful of the stray grain 

 and peas that fall from the hands of farmers and 

 dealers examining samples on market days. Pre- 

 sently, two constables come across carrying a heavy, 

 clumsy box between them. They unlock a door, and 

 take the box upstairs into the hall over the pillars. 

 After them saunters a seedy man, evidently a clerk, 

 with a rusty black bag ; and after him again for the 

 magistrates' Clerk's clerk must have his clerk a boy 

 with some leather-bound books. 



Some of the loafers touch their hats as a gen- 

 tleman a magistrate rides up the street. But 

 although the church clock is striking the hour fixed 

 for the sessions to begin he does not come over to the 

 hall upon dismounting in the inn-yard, but quietly 

 strolls away to transact some business with the wine- 

 merchant or the saddler. There really is not the 

 least hurry. The Clerk stands in the inn porch 

 calmly enjoying the September sunshine, and chatting 

 with the landlord. Two or three more magistrates 

 drive up ; presently the chairman strolls over on foot 

 from his house, which is almost in the town, to the 

 inn and joins in the pleasant gossip going on there, 

 of course in a private apartment. 



