Luke, the Rabbit Contractor. 159 



conveying them to his cottage on the outskirts of the 

 village. From thence they went by carrier's cart to 

 the railway. Old Luke's books, such as they were, 

 were quite beyond the understanding of any one but 

 himself and his wife ; nor could even they themselves 

 tell you exactly how many dozen he purchased in 

 the year. But in his cups the wicked old hypocrite 

 had often been known to boast that he paid the lord 

 of the manor as much money as the rent of a small 

 farm. 



One of Luke's eyes was closed with a kind of 

 watery rheum, and was never opened except when he 

 thought a rabbit was about to jump into a net. The 

 other was but half open, and so overhung with a 

 thick grey eyebrow as to be barely visible. His 

 cheeks were the hue of clay, his chin scrubby, and a 

 lanky black forelock depended over one temple. 

 A battered felt hat, a ragged discoloured slop, and 

 corduroys stained with the clay of the banks com- 

 pleted his squalid costume. 



A more miserable object or one apparently more 

 deserving of pity it would be hard to imagine. To 

 see him crawl with slow and feeble steps across the 

 fields in winter, gradually working his way in the 

 teeth of a driving rain, was enough to arouse com- 

 passion in the hardest heart : there was something so 



