20 A MEDLEY OF SPOET 



Without answering a word, the red-headed, foxy- 

 looking farmer descended from the rick, and then, sm:- 

 rounded by a score of angry, panting men, and with the 

 hounds jumping excitedly all round him, he pulled forth 

 from the pocket of his rusty fustian coat an old charred 

 boot and a tattered red herring attached to a long length 

 of twine. 



" That's the only hare I've set eyes on this day, and 

 you're welcome to it, Denis 0' Grady ; and it's one of your 

 own poaching too, for it's meself saw you laying the 

 thrail wid it this morning," grinningly remarked the 

 farmer, as he handed to the astonished and, we might 

 add, outwitted huntsman the damning drag. 



0' Grady was too taken aback to answer a word, and 

 for several moments stood gazing vacantly at the old boot 

 and the remnants of the savoury " soldier," which he 

 still held in his hand. 



" And is that the animal you were teaching me all 

 about so carefully this morning, Denis ? " ejaculated the 

 Squire, as he pointed to the drag with a look of disgust. 

 " Is that the quarry we've been running the legs off our- 

 selves after for the last two hours ? O'Grady, you're a 

 disgrace to your uniform." 



" An' so he is, your honour," cried the rest of the hare- 

 hunters in a breath. No sooner were the words uttered 

 than Denis O'Grady was borne down by a score of his 

 late admirers and boon companions, and although the 

 veteran fought tooth and nail to save the green coat, it 

 was torn into a hundred pieces, and a strange figure did 



