CATCHING MY FIRST POACHER. 53 



So I took his hand and pressed it warmly, and, 

 having nothing to say, turned it off by a laugh. 

 " Ah, John," my father went on, " You don't 

 know your danger or you wouldn't be so ven- 

 turesome, but I tell Matthew and Dick to run 

 up to your call directly, when you are chasing 

 poachers." Father need not have troubled 

 about that, for I was quite sure that no Chesham 

 man would hurt me, and, as a matter of fact, 

 they never did, or attempted to. I don't know 

 why, except that I was always rather a favorite 

 with them ; there was something about me they 

 always liked, though what that something was I 

 cannot tell. I think they rather admired my 

 pluck, for, if I was in a fight, they always saw 

 fair play, and backed me on to thrash my lad, 

 saying ; — " Go it Jack, my boy, you'll whip 

 him like a sack, go it my little man o' war; 

 here's your little Oliver, here's your little 

 Napoleon." It was only from strangers that I 

 had anything to fear in the way of ill-usage. I 

 never had a blow from a local poacher in a 

 public house row, it was only in a bona fide 

 poaching affray that they fought me ; when I 



