'Look at that now, for a keeper to say! Why, if he don't happen to have a snare just there, he has somewhere else, you know.

Eh?
Ain't old Harry right now, eh ?' 'Maybe.' 'There, don't say I don't know nothing then.

Eh?
What matter who put the snare down, or the hare in, perwided he takes it up, man?
If 'twas his'n he'd be all the better pleased.

The most notoriousest poacher as walks unhung!' And old Harry lifted up his crooked hands in pious indignation.
'I'll have no more gamekeeping, Harry.

What with hunting down Christians as if they were vermin, all night, and being cursed by the squire all day, I'd sooner be a sheriff's runner, or a negro slave.' 'Ay, ay! that's the way the young dogs always bark afore they're broke in, and gets to like it, as the eels does skinning.