THE GUILELESS COUNTRYMAN 213 



feet in length. Few have watched them while 

 engaged in this toil, usually undertaken at night- 

 time ; but we have seen them at work once or twice 

 by day, and once caught a rabbit by the leg so 

 intent was he on his digging while he was in the 

 act of kicking the soil aside. 



The countryman is not always the guileless simple- 



ton that he sometimes looks ; nor, as we can show, 



is the Cockney sportsman. A holiday - 



The making Londoner was shooting one day in a 



Country 8 field be y nd the cottage of a labourer, who 

 man came out to watch the sport. Suddenly a 

 cry broke from him : he leaped into the air ; 

 then bellowed to the sportsman, waving a red hand- 

 kerchief in signal. Up to the cottage rushed the 

 sportsman, thinking that at the least the country- 

 man had been stung by a hornet or bitten by a 

 mad dog. " Look what ye've bin an' done," said 

 the countryman, advancing. " 'Tis a wonder I be 

 alive ; look what ye've bin an' done ; look at my 

 door, and look at these here shots." Saying which, 

 he pointed to his newly painted door (the sports- 

 man saw it was pitted with such holes as a rusty nail 

 might make). He held out his hand and showed 

 a good two ounces of shot (the sportsman saw they 

 had never been fired from a gun). " These here 

 shots," said the countryman, " they buzzed about me 

 like a swarm of bees : 'tis a wonder I be alive." The 



