Home to bed, and tries the same thing next night.

Not a soul comes near him.

Next morning has up keepers, watchers, beaters, the whole posse; and 'Now, you rascals! I've been poaching my own covers two nights running, and you've been all drunk in bed.

There are your wages to the last penny; and vanish! I'll be my own keeper henceforth; and never let me see your faces again!" The old Doctor laughed cheerily.

"Well: but did you kill your fox ?" "All right: but it was a burster,--just what I always tell Mr.
Stangrave.