258 



THE FOX. 



A few years before this transgression on the part 

 of incautious Eeynard; my friend, Mr. Carr, of 

 Bunston Hill, near Gateshead, had made me a 

 present of two very fine Egyptian geese. 



They were great beauties, and wonderfully 

 admired by everybody who saw them. During the 

 season of frost and snow, they were admitted into 

 the saddle-room at night, for the sake of warmth. 

 Sometimes, however, they failed to make their 

 appearance at the door : but this did not cause us 

 any apprehension, as we knew that they were safe 

 from harm. 



On the morning after Reynard had made his 

 desperate descent into our elysium, one of the geese 

 was missing : the keeper having just sounded the 

 alarm, that there was a fox in the park. On search 

 being made, the remains of the Egyptian goose 

 were found at the foot of an aged sycamore tree ; 

 whilst all around, the prints of a fox's feet, were 

 visible in the snow. By their irregularity, we 

 conjectured that Eeynard had had tough work, ere 

 he mastered the goose. There could be no doubt 

 whatever, but that he had been exercising his 

 vicious calling, and had made a dainty meal upon 

 the luckless bird. We were in a dilemma of 

 no ordinary kind. The state of the weather was 

 too frosty to suit our sportsmen. Neither dared we 



