8O AN ENGLISH GAMEKEEPER. 



When we reached Foxe's Mill, an old woman 

 came out to fill her kettle at the pump ; then 

 another one came out to her door, to let down 

 a shutter; then a third came out of another 

 cottage, and the moment she saw us, she cried 

 out : 



" Oh, dear neighbour, here's Charlie Cough- 

 trey caught ; young Wilkins has got him, poor 

 Charlie's caught right enough." And away 

 she goes next door. " Neighbour Jeffrey, poor 

 Charlie Coughtrey's clone for ; look, young 

 Wilkins has got him." 



Then they all left their kettles and shutters 

 and things and joined in a chorus of lamenta- 

 tions. " Poor Charlie, its all up with him now, 

 or young Wilkins wouldn't be with him ; poor 

 Charlie. 



" Good morning, Charles," said I, politely, 

 and went back to the Dell, where I met the 

 other two men, Nash and Jones. 



"Well," they said, jeeringly, "now you've 

 caught him you clon't know him." 



" What," said I, with feigned surprise. 

 " You may as well say I don't know you two, 



