^ The Park* 109 



Something of the same kind happens occasionally on 

 the river barges. The ducks were in a coop fastened 

 down, so that they could not swim on the surface of 

 the flood, which passed over and drowned them. The 

 pigs were floated out of the sty, and in swimming their 

 sharp-edged hoofs struck their fat jowls just behind 

 the ear at every stroke till they cut into the artery, 

 and so bled to death. Where he got this history from 

 I do not know. 



One bright October morning (towards the end of 

 the month) Dickon drove me over to the old place 

 with his fast trotter — our double-barrels hidden under 

 some sacks in the trap. The keeper was already 

 waiting in the kitchen, sipping a glass of hot purl ; 

 the butler was filling every pocket with cartridges. 

 After some comparison of their betting-books, for 

 Dickon, on account of his acquaintance with the train- 

 ing establishments, was up to most moves, we started. 

 The keeper had to send a certain number of pheasants 

 and other game to the absent family and their friends 

 every now and then, and this duty was his pretext 

 There was plenty of shooting to be got elsewhere, but 

 the spice of naughtiness about this was alluring. To 

 reach that part of the wood where it was proposed to 

 shoot the shortest way led across some arable fields. 



Fieldfares and redwings rose out ofthe hedges and 



