Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1873-10-11
THE PO4CI{ER'S STORY.

It's worse than gambling, sir, and it
beats drinking holler. Skittes is en-
t1cing, but poaching is the captain
Drop it, sir? [ could wipe off my score
at the Growing Cock easier than | could
drop my love of sport and when says
that L says good deal, for the landlord
swears l shall die in his debt and be
ieve him. If fellow takes to poach-
ing, he's done for as safe as houses. I've
been private sportsman now for twenty
year come Martinmas, and Tn a bigger
old sawney than ever in the way of lik-
ing it, o, sartinly, some gives it up,
but not without their eyes fails 'em
There's old Jacob Greene the black
smith, he's retired good bit now. He
do say it was because the Methody man
made him Uneasy in his mind and he's
a deacon now, and has had "a call " to
preach But the truth is, the blinds
have got down, sir. He can't see; and
a good poacher must be able to hit
black cat at forty yards on dusky
night. Old Jacob Greene, sir, is like
Solomon now. Solomon, sir when he
got so old he couldn't enjoy himself the
same as he used, said it was all vanity
any vexation of spirit. No doubt it
is vexing when fellow tries to carry on
the old games, and can't.
How did l begin the game? Well, it
wur like this: At eighteen / WIZ in
service with old master Thurlstone, at
the Dove Holes and Will Oakley WIZ
my fellow-servant. A fine strapping
fellow wur VIII. Gone to Americay
now. He saved his money, sir, and l
spends niue that's the difference.
Howether, as we sat on the sheltry side
Of hedge, eating our bread and cheese,
we seed the plump pheasants strut so
peert out OF the wosd that skirted the
field we wur narrowing; and so tame,
like our Cochins. Will looked at 'em
admiring-liAe for minute, and says
he:
"Them birds, Rocks THAT'S nv
OIL y otl Stt- tlltIu DlTtlS is IKE
many silly men who won't take a good
thing when they has a chance. There's
pans full OF tommy for 'em in the wood,
and yet they come dibbling in our field.
WONDER" says he, considering min
ute or two, 81 wonder how they would
taste baked?"
I hadn't no notion, and l said so.
Will sat twirling his billy-cock slowly,
and looking at the pheasants.
81 was a-wondering why you and me,
Rocks, should have to sit in the ditch
eating barley-bread and skim-dick,
whilst Squire Dormer eats pheasants
and lives like a fighting cock? Wild
animals, says Will, appointing across
the field to where the pheasants wur
feeding, and a-stretching out his fingers
like the Nlethody man when he breaches
on the horse block at the Growing
Cock" animals was sent for the
service of men; they was give to every
body, not to the Squire. There's the
book of Genesis on that, and parson
can't deny it, though he'd like to.
"There's another thing, too. If you
and me, Rocks, was to sneak round the
corner of that wood, and floor couple
of them birds with big hedge stake, or
if we was to shoot 'em at nights, the
justices would lecture us like anythink,
and swear we was rogues and vagabones.
But if Squire and his lot wur to make a
big bag, them very justices would say,
What noble sportsmen what Il love of
sportI Laws is rum things" says he,
a-scratching of his head, "and justices
amt no better than they should be-"
Well, sir, took up uncommon raw
agin the Squire, and Will soon per-
suaded me to pitch into the pheasants.
He was mixed up with regular gang
of poachers at Foosetown, and easily