MORE POACHERS AND POACHING. 343 



over to my house to see me, and have a chat. 

 We talked over things a bit, especially about 

 shooting at the wooden pheasants ; and it 

 appeared that he climbed up the tree because 

 he thought the birds had got lodged up in 

 the branches, so that they could not fall down. 

 We cracked a joke over it, and Monk confessed 

 that I had got the best of him right through. 



" Wilkins," said Monk, at last. " I want to 

 borrow a bushel, or a bushel and a half of 

 small potatoes to plant my garden. Through 

 me being in prison this winter my wife has 

 been obliged to cook every potato I had by 

 me, and I havn't one left, large or small." 



" Here you are, my boy," said I. " Here 

 are two bushels of sets, just the things for 

 planting; you can have them, and welcome." 



I thought he would have jumped out of his 

 smock when I said this ; he took the potatoes 

 gratefully. " You have been the best friend I 

 ever met, keeper," said he. " You behaved 

 kindly to me at your house, and to my boy 

 before that, to my wife and kids whilst I was 

 in prison, and now again to me after I am out. 



