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ODDS AND ENDS 279 
' the keeper and the labouring community does for 
the good of game what the most energetic keeper 
cannot do by himself. For the keeper personally 
to make ‘kind inquiries’ at a labourer’s cottage 
where there is sickness never does any harm, 
especially if a visiting-card in the shape of a rabbit 
is left behind. Whether a caller is a keeper or not, 
the wife of a sick labourer loves to describe all the 
morbid details of the case: anything to do with 
spattered blood she is certain to glory in elaborating. 
When the kind inquirer happens to be the keeper, 
she is equally certain, sooner or later, to work round 
to the question of rabbits as medicine. For instance, 
after this fashion: ‘There, he haven’t eat ne’er a 
marsel o’ food this two days; ’e don’t sim to fancy 
nothin’, ‘cept when I tell’d un jest now ’e would die 
o’ starvation, ’e did sorter mutter summat about the 
leg of a rabbut.’ Then is the time for the keeper 
to have in his pocket a rabbit that he does not 
want to carry any farther. Only once have I 
known a rabbit not to be thankfully received. One 
Saturday evening, in the summer, I met an old man 
on his way home from work, to whom I knew a 
rabbit was a treat. Producing a black one I had 
just shot, I handed it to him with a kindly meant 
remark about his Sunday’s dinner. Much to my 
surprise, he declared it was the devil, and refused 
even to touch it. He accepted a brown one which 
had shared my pocket with the devil, and went on 
his way rejoicing. 
