2IO MY MOOR 



the last year or two, and which is only bare 

 black soil, with twisted gorse stems and a 

 few dead trees. All, or nearly all of it, is let, 

 though I never dared to ask the parson how 

 much, or rather how little, a man could 

 afford to pay for such stuff. Still, a few half- 

 starved cows and ponies are sometimes to be 

 seen there. In old days they dug out stone 

 for millstones there, and left a number of 

 nasty holes, which are apt to bring one to 

 grief among the high heather, gorse, and 

 fern. As it is no one man's shoot, it is left, 

 of course, to stock itself, and produces every 

 year two or three nides of pheasants, as 

 many coveys of partridges, and a fair number 

 of stout moorland hares and rabbits. But it 

 is the visitors I value most highly. Wood- 

 cock seem to affect it particularly, and 

 although there are not so many snipe as one 



