MY BROTHER KEEPERS 205 



of retaining all captured rabbits failed to have any 

 marked effect on the number of victims. Finally, 

 our hero's turn came. Even he could not succeed ; 

 though if soliloquizing had been the object, he would 

 have been the very man. But he did this : at 

 certain holes he made, as it were, a troubling of the 

 ground, as if a rabbit had been trapped. And the 

 cry went up from the fevered lips of his employer, 

 ' This is the man to catch rabbits !' From that time 

 forth our hero was clothed in the purple of his craft. 



Many keepers have I known to become famous 

 for their stock phrases, if for no other reason. 

 There was one who generally had a retriever bitch 

 with him ; and when he wished to stimulate her 

 efforts to find wounded game, he would exclaim at 

 intervals, ' Good dawg old bitch !' This drollery 

 never failed to arouse the appreciation of the beaters. 

 Everyone would make a point of enquiring of this 

 old fellow, on every reasonable occasion, after his 

 wife's health, for the sake of hearing his unfailing 

 reply, * Oh, she's sharpish, thank 'ee.' Again, what- 

 ever you told him whether something quite obvious 

 or something quite new to him would always be 

 received with, ( I knawed it. Ah ! / knawed it.' 



Though keepers, in their contact with strangers, 

 are men of few words, not easily dragged into con- 

 versation, and almost aggressively suspicious let 

 two or more keepers meet, and their tongues are very 

 speedily loosened, making it difficult to believe they 



