I was at first going to tell Hilary about the pack, but afterwards refrained, as he would at once proceed to set up gins in the run, while I thought I should like to see the animals again.

But I got him to talk about stoats and weasels, and found that he had not himself seen so many together.

There was, however, a man about the place who told a tale of some weasels he had seen.

It was 'that rascal old Aaron;' but he could not listen to such a fellow.
Hilary would tell me nothing further, having evidently a strong dislike to the man.
It seems there were two Aarons--uncle and nephew: old Aaron was the arch-poacher of the parish, young Aaron worked regularly at Lucketts' Place.

This young labourer (the man who fell asleep on the milking-stool) was one of the best of his class--a great, powerful fellow, but good-natured, willing, and pleasant to speak to.