64 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



Tom Cassidy, is up to his poachin' thricks again, an' I'll 

 warrant he has popped our hare." 



Helter-skelter ran the crowd of puffing, mud-soiled 

 hare-hunters, yelling vengeance against Cassidy, " the 

 cursed pot-hunter," and as they approached the home- 

 stead there, surely enough, stood the hated farmer on 

 the topmost rungs of a stock-ladder, pouring out curses 

 on the heads of the Longbally Beagles, which were baying 

 at the foot of his haven of refuge. 



"Come down, ye murderin' thief; come down and 

 bring the hare ye killed this very minute as is, or I'll 

 shake ye off your perch to feed the hounds, ' ' cried Timothy, 

 violently shaking the ladder. 



Without answering a word, the red-headed, foxy-looking 

 husbandman descended from the rick, and then,surrounded 

 by a score of angry, panting men, and with the hounds 

 jumping excitedly all round him, he pulled forth from the 

 pocket of his fustian coat an old charred boot, a dead rat, 

 and a tattered red herring, well anointed with aniseed, 

 and attached to a long length of twine. 



" That's the only hare I've set eyes on this day, and 

 you're welcome to it, Tim O'Leary, and it's one iv your 

 own poachin', too, for it's meself saw ye layin' the thrail 

 wid it this morning," grinningly remarked Cassidy, 

 as he handed to the astonished and, we might add, out- 

 witted huntsman the damning " drag." 



O'Leary was too taken aback to answer a word, and 

 for several moments he stood gazing vacantly at the 

 " bundle of tricks," which he still held in his hand. 



" And that's the animal whose habits you were teach- 

 ing me all about so carefully this morning, O'Leary?" 



