ROUND THE BOUNDARIES 157 



planted for days like this, and runs out at 

 rio-ht aneles to the bio; wood. Master stands 

 out in the meadow, and keeper, ratding his 

 stick on the fence, runs the dogs through 

 the covert. A brace of young pheasants 

 rise simultaneously, and flop ! flop ! they fall 

 on the grass. Truth to tell, it was rather 

 an easy double shot. 



From here their way runs up a disused 

 hollow lane, but though the dogs find 

 several birds, they run into their own or 

 the neighbour's coverts and give no chances. 

 At the top is a mere strip of woodland 

 against a large wood— " Another's," as the 

 despairing lover says in melodrama. Master 

 o-ets on to the end, and keeper and dogs 

 work it through. Up get two cock birds. 

 One o-oes down, and the other is not shot 

 at. Keeper gathers the bird, with a broad 



