“Let's turn Jews,” said Spriggs, “and make a vow never to touch pork again!”
“Vot's the use o' that?”
“Vy, we shall save our bacon in future, to be sure,” replied Spriggs, laughing, and Grubb joining in his merriment, they began to look about them, not for fresh pork, but for fresh game.
“No more shooting in the grass, mind!” said Grubb, “or ve shall have the blades upon us agin for another grunter p'r'aps. Our next haim must be at birds on the ving! No more forking out. Shooting a pig ain't no lark—that's poz!”
CHAPTER III.
The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure—Grubb gets on a paling and runs a risk of being impaled.
“Twig them trees?”—said Grubb.
“Prime!” exclaimed Spriggs, “and vith their leaves ve'll have an hunt there.—Don't you hear the birds a crying 'sveet,' 'sveet?' Thof all birds belong to the Temperance Society by natur', everybody knows as they're partic'larly fond of a little s'rub!”