IOO AN ENGLISH GAMEKEEPER. 



When Dick made his appearance, next 

 morning, my father said : 



" Jack shot your ghost, last night, Dick." 



"Sure enough if he has I'll stand treat," 

 replied Dick. 



So we took him to the trough, my father first 

 locking the front door, and then I removed the 

 sacks and displayed the ghost. Old Dick 

 nearly jumped out of his skin, exclaiming: 



" Ay, that's him, sure enough." 



The ghost was nothing more than an 

 enormous deer hound, and the highest dog I 

 ever met. I had seen him once with his master, 

 a farmer who lived on Hyde Heath Common, 

 and, on that occasion, the dog caught a rabbit. 

 As he was never kept on the chain he became 

 a confirmed poacher, so I was not at all sorry 

 for what I had done. 



We took the body up to Bishop's Hill gorse, 

 that night, and put him in a pit in the gorse ; 

 and there his bones are now, or rather, the bone 

 dust, for it is more than fifty years ago. Dick 

 read the burial service over him, and recited a 

 poem of his own composition, over the grave. 



