218 A GAMEKEEPER'S NOTE-BOOK 



remarks that he has lost a fine clutch of eggs olive- 

 brown eggs : he hints that the gipsy knows something 

 about it. Innocently comes the question : " They 

 sart o' eggs be pison, bain't they ? " If caught with 

 nets and ferrets on a rabbit burrow, a fine tale he has 

 to tell of poachers who ran away at his approach, 

 leaving all their tackle. 



A keeper, who had strict orders to allow no gipsies 

 to stop on his ground, one day came across a strong 

 swarm, and saw clearly that they intended to stay 

 the night. But in reply to his marching orders, they 

 pleaded that they wished to stay only long enough to 

 make some tea ; they promised they would be gone 

 by the time the keeper returned, in a couple of hours. 

 So he went away, but went no farther than behind 

 the nearest hedge : whence he heard himself de- 

 scribed in a picturesque and blood-curdling fashion, 

 and heard the declaration also that the gipsies had 

 no intention of budging an inch for such a blue- 

 livered, red-nosed piece of pulp as he. Thereupon 

 the keeper took a run and a jump, and landed his 

 eighteen stone self and his leaded stick in the gipsies' 

 midst, sending their pots and pans far-flying. The 

 gipsies snatched burning sticks from the fire, and a 

 desperate fight began, but they soon had enough of 

 that eighteen stone of angry keeper. 



In autumn, rabbits receive special attention from 

 the long-net poachers. On a night not too dark 



