Yeast: a Problem

the Priory with a fluttering heart to inquire after all parties

idn't care for country justices, not they. Weren't all their fines paid by highly respectable game-dealers at the West end? They owned three dog-carts among them; a parcel by railway would bring them down bail to any amount; they tossed their money away at the p

n as he strutted about the courtya

as'll play the whole vale to cricket, and whap them; and every one'll fight, for they're half poachers themselves, you see'

sure they'll

I'll warrant. I seed him preaching to that 'ere Crawy, three or four times when he ought to have hau

nse, H

on't know nothing, that's all.

oath. 'The very man I wanted to see! You must lead these keepers for me to-night. They

occupation, but he was under too man

it so, I know, when I was young. Many a shindy have I had here in my uncle's time, under the ve

im. He almost sprang towards her-and retreated, for he saw tha

and contempt, pity and affected carelessness, were strange

g out something, when

but they don't understand these things. They fight with their tongues, and

u have promised my father to go on this horrid business-go. Bu

before Lancelot had promised seven times over

t the head of some fifteen fine young fellows, keepers, grooms, and not extempore 'watchers,' whom old Harry was ma

rva, for I don't like it at all! The fighti

that have been eating up their garden-stuff all the week, I can't touch them, sir, and that's truth; but these ruffia

'the parsons say all

shook h

n in the vale; and now every other man you meet is trying to do his best. But those London parsons, sir, what's the matter with them? For all their soci

shot in

ght that Crawy wouldn't lead

I have promised Miss Lavington n

the squire's game is his own, and

the bushes, and a tram

egarva pulled off his neckcloth, and shook his huge limbs, as if to feel that they

ive or six armed men, with blackened faces, who, without speaking a word, dashed at them,

laws were sh

st blood

ogether for l

the holl

good and th

in splint

he orts to so

pled kne

ed up, they

tled stil

sweet beneat

ed to mud

about whom all this butchery went on, slept quietly over their heads, every one with his head under his wing. Oh! if pheasants had but understan

here was a heart as brave as Ajax's own; but then they fought with sticks instead of lances, and hammered away on fustian jackets instead of brazen shields; and, therefore, poor fellows, they were beneath 'the dignity of poetry,' whatever

st of fighting, common to man and animals, whose traces even the lamb and the civilised child evince in their mock-fights, the earliest and most natural form of play. Is it, after all, the one human propensity which is utterly evil, incapable of being turned to any righteous use? Gross and animal, no doubt it is, but not the less really pleasant, as every Irishman and many an Englishman knows well enough. A

ght of battle

g on his face across a barricade, with a bullet through his heart. Sedentary perso

ll too much for their clumsy strength; but at last Harry Verney, who had been fighting as venomously as a wild cat, and

an murdered, Mr. Smith?

ept out of his head, and 'he went,' as the old romances say, 'hurling into the midst of the press,' as mere a wild animal for the moment as angry bull or boar. An instant afterwards, though, he bu

ittle wiry lump of courage and conceit, rascality and good humour, flew at Lancelot, who was twice his size, 'wit

*

any more?' as

'lman. Beg your pardon, sir; stay a moment while

thought he had killed him. The gang saw their champion fall, gave ground, and limped

e poacher to the prime minister-wearying yourselves for very vanity! The soldier is

rs, Harry Verney alone held on, and as the poachers retreated slowly up the ride, he

u, and we'd be loth to harm an old ma

gin-drinking, counter-skipping Cockney rascals, that fancy you're to carry the county before

aths followed. 'If you follow us, we'll fi

ou to-!' and the old man paced

er and sprang forward

will have

oak-leaf shone out for a moment as bright as day-and in front of the glare Lancelot saw

th you!' And the rascal

by the old man's side, an

is, and I said it. Eh? Didn't I, now, Paul?' And as the old man spoke, the workings of his lungs pumped great jet

uzzle and lock. Help him to sit on them, Lancelot. There, Harry, put your arms round their necks. Tregarva,

everything, colone

id not answer

ver had in the world, or ever shall have; and a week af

life-blood. 'I've been a beast to you, Paul. I've hated you, and envied you, and tried to ruin you. And now you've saved my life once thi

ill forgive you. He is all mercy.

anyhow; never touched a feather of the squire's

turne

e me!-I put it in th

e you! Amen!' sa

messenger had gone on before, and in a few minutes the squire, Mrs

he doctor and the vicar; the squir

ain endeavoured to stanch the wound. 'I knowed it would be so, sooner or later; 'tis all in the way o

aid the squire. 'Save him, colon

red like a bullet, tearing a great ragged hole.-There wa

o has been killed here! Oh, Mr. Smith, mu

The old man lighted u

uld she? She was always too tender-hearted. Ah, squire, when we're dead and gone,-dead and gone,-squire, they'll be the pride of Whitford still! And they'll keep up the

ngtons,' sighed Argemone t

heard wha

ate. The old man's strength was fai

e-not old Harry's fault. How black it grows! We must be gone by nightf

vington sobbe

e vicar. 'Remember that you have a Savio

hook hi

e, never any more at all. Where's my boy Tom to carry it? Send for my

s bells a-ringing-ringing in my he

s face down to his

a-ringing for Miss

and grinned for a moment in his old foxy,

king! Oh, Lord, how deep! Now it's running quieter-now I can breathe again-swift and oily-running on, running on, down to the sea. See how the grayling sparkle! There's a pike! 'Tain't my fa

sank away-

e sprang upright in the bed, and held out his withe

n any manor in the county. And them

a rattle in his throat-