for rain and cold were more frequent than sunshine; but it was my pride to

contemn the elements. My trusty dog watched the sheep as I slipped away to

the rendezvous of my comrades, and thence to the accomplishment of our

schemes. At noon we met again, and we threw away in contempt our peasant

fare, as we built our fire-place and kindled the cheering blaze destined to

cook the game stolen from the neighbouring preserves. Then came the tale of

hair-breadth escapes, combats with dogs, ambush and flight, as gipsey-like

we encompassed our pot. The search after a stray lamb, or the devices by

which we elude or endeavoured to elude punishment, filled up the hours of

afternoon; in the evening my flock went to its fold, and I to my sister.

It was seldom indeed that we escaped, to use an old-fashioned phrase, scot

free. Our dainty fare was often exchanged for blows and imprisonment. Once,

when thirteen years of age, I was sent for a month to the county jail. I

came out, my morals unimproved, my hatred to my oppressors encreased

tenfold. Bread and water did not tame my blood, nor solitary confinement

inspire me with gentle thoughts. I was angry, impatient, miserable; my only

happy hours were those during which I devised schemes of revenge; these

were perfected in my forced solitude, so that during the whole of the

following season, and I was freed early in September, I never failed to

provide excellent and plenteous fare for myself and my comrades. This was a

glorious winter. The sharp frost and heavy snows tamed the animals, and

kept the country gentlemen by their firesides; we got more game than we

could eat, and my faithful dog grew sleek upon our refuse.

Thus years passed on; and years only added fresh love of freedom, and

The Last Man