The Rabbits' House-cleaning
In late autumn rabbits are very busy about their burrows, making them fit for winter habitation. Through the summer, while many of the rabbits have been lying out, the burrows have looked deserted and untidy. Warned by the chilly nights that a subterranean refuge will soon be useful, the rabbits do up their premises, enlarging them, clearing away the remains of old nests, and of relatives that have died underground, and making fresh chambers where they may lie snug and warm in place of those dug out during last season's ferreting operations. Judging by the amount of soil excavated in a single night, rabbits at this season seem to rival ants in energy—one might think there had been a wholesale invasion of new-comers. At work, they kick the soil sideways, forming a furrow perhaps six or ten feet in length. Few have watched them while engaged in this toil, usually undertaken at night-time; but we have seen them at work once or twice by day, and once caught a rabbit by the leg—so intent was he on his digging—while he was in the act of kicking the soil aside.
The Guileless Countryman
The countryman is not always the guileless simpleton that he sometimes looks; nor, as we can show, is the Cockney sportsman. A holiday-making Londoner was shooting one day in a field beyond the cottage of a labourer, who came out to watch the sport. Suddenly a cry broke from him: he leaped into the air; then bellowed to the sportsman, waving a red handkerchief in signal. Up to the cottage rushed the sportsman, thinking that at the least the countryman had been stung by a hornet or bitten by a mad dog. "Look what ye've bin an' done," said the countryman, advancing. "'Tis a wonder I be alive; look what ye've bin an' done; look at my door, and look at these here shots." Saying which, he pointed to his newly painted door (the sportsman saw it was pitted with such holes as a rusty nail might make). He held out his hand and showed a good two ounces of shot (the sportsman saw they had never been fired from a gun). "These here shots," said the countryman, "they buzzed about me like a swarm of bees: 'tis a wonder I be alive." The sportsman agreed in the marvel of the escape, adding to its wonder by pointing out that his shot had been fired at a distance of five hundred yards from the cottage—and in the opposite direction. "Allow me," he said, "to buy back these wonderful pellets at a fair market price"—and he handed the countryman twopence.
Sporting Policemen
In rural villages, keen sportsmen are often found beneath the uniforms of the policeman and the postman. No one knows better than the keeper how useful it is to be on friendly terms with the policeman—and no one knows better how to manage it. Often policeman and postman may be found doing duty as beaters, especially during September partridge shooting, when the harvest is late and out-of-work labourers are few. If you see through his disguise of plain clothes, the policeman will remark how he just thought he would have a walk for an hour or two, just to oblige Mr. Keeper. Upholding the law and delivering the post mean much walking: and country policemen and postmen, when passing along the roads early and late, find the haunt of many a fine covey. Being good sportsmen, they take note of the customary line of flight; and if you own some of the land of the covey's haunting they can tell you almost to a minute when the birds leave the turnips beyond the boundary for your stubble.
If a policeman is on duty during the early days of partridge shooting, he will manage to fall in with shooting parties; then he makes it known that he heard shots, and was impelled to take a look round, "to see that there weren't nothing wrong." The policeman's favourite time for making known his presence is soon after the bagging of a good, broad-backed hare. Even policemen become spoiled with favours. On a sportsman telling his keeper to give a hare to a polite and zealous officer of the law, "Excuse me, sir," said he, "but the party over the hedge have just given me a hare, so might I have a brace of birds? Thank ye kindly, I'm sure; a hare will do nicely next time, sir." The sporting policeman can do much to help the luckless sportsman.