368 AN ENGLISH GAMEKEEPER. 



is at present a drayman, and, whenever I 

 meet him on the road, he smiles at me and 

 waves his hand, and I smile and wave my 

 hand to him, which is distinctly pleasing. No 

 one ever knew that I caught him poaching. 



There are many other such cases I could 

 name, especially of secret snaring by labourers. 

 These cases should always be dealt with 

 firmly, but leniently I invariably made it a 

 rule to give a very definite warning, before 

 taking up the matter seriously, and the 

 following account will explain exactly what I 

 mean. 



One day I found a snare set in the hedge 

 belonging to one of the farm labourer's gardens. 

 I collared the snare. Then I took one of the 

 cards that the huntsman sends me periodically, 

 warning me to stop the earths. On the blank 

 side of this card I wrote: — "And you must 

 stop setting snares, Parker." Then I signed 

 my name at the bottom: — "John Wilkins, 

 gamekeeper, Durrell's Wood, Standstead, 

 Essex." This card I stuck on to the pegs of 

 the snare, so, when Mr. Parker came to see 



