The Confessions of a Poacher

Poaching is one of the fine arts—how 'fine' only the initiated know.


THE SQUIRE'S KEEPER.
EDITED BY JOHN WATSON, F.L.S., Author of Nature and Woodcraft, Sylvan Folk, &c., &c.
ILLUSTRATED BY JAMES WEST.
LONDON: The Leadenhall Press, 50, Leadenhall Street, E.C.

The Leadenhall Press, 50, Leadenhall Street, London, E.C. T 4,463.z

poacher of these Confessions is no imaginary being. In the following pages I have set down nothing but what has come within his own personal experience; and, although the little book is full of strange inconsistencies, I cannot, knowing the man, call them by a harder name. Nature made old Phil a Poacher, but she made him a Sportsman and a Naturalist at the same time. I never met any man who was in closer sympathy with the wild creatures about him; and never dog or child came within his influence but what was permanently attracted by his personality. Although eighty years of age there is still some of the old erectness in his carriage; some of the old fire in his eyes. As a young man he was handsome, though now his features are battered out of all original conception. His silvery hair still covers a lion-like head, and his tanned cheeks are hard and firm. If his life has been a lawless one he has paid heavily for his wrong doings. Great as a poacher, he must have been great whatever he had been. In my boyhood he was the hero whom I worshipped, and I hardly know that I have gone back on my loyalty.