Yet what, may I ask, could the poor man do?
He was right in a place where he couldn’t
Pay,
—He had three dollars, ’tis true enough,
and ‘twould square the bill, but, you see, that day
The catchers had come and taken his dogs: a
hound, a setter, and brindle-pup,
And a man like Hoskins would ne ’er endure to
have the dog-pound gobble them up,
For he gunned on Sundays behind the hound,