across the allotments and Fordham estate, and took up a position behind a shed which stood on the confines of Mr. Timms’s and Mr. Cheatum’s properties.  Here, having procured a rest for his gun, he waited until old Tom, who had tarried to nip a few blades of green grass that came in his way, made his appearance.  Presently he came cantering along the outside of the wood, at a careless, easy sort of pace, betokening either perfect indifference for the world’s mischief, or utter contempt of cockney sportsmen altogether.

He was a melancholy, woe-begone-looking animal, long and lean, with a slight inclination to grey on his dingy old coat, one that looked as though he had survived his kindred and had already lived beyond his day.  Jorrocks, however, saw him differently, and his eyes glistened as he came within range of his gun.  A well-timed shot ends poor Tom’s miseries!  He springs into the air, and with a melancholy scream rolls neck over heels.  Knowing that Pompey would infallibly spoil him if he got up first, Jorrocks, without waiting to load, was in the act of starting off to pick him up, when, at the first step, he found himself in the grasp of a Herculean monster, something between a coal-heaver and a gamekeeper, who had been secreted behind the shed.  Nosey Browne, who had been watching his movements, holloaed out to Jorrocks to “hold hard,” who stood motionless, on the spot from whence he fired, and Browne was speedily alongside of him.  “You are on Squire Cheatum’s estate,” said the man; “and I have authority to take up all poachers and persons found unlawfully trespassing; what’s your name?” “He’s not on Cheatum’s estate,” said Browne.  “He is,” said the man.  “You’re a liar,” said Browne.  “You’re another,” said the man.  And so they went on; for when such gentlemen meet, compliments pass current.  At length the keeper pulled out a foot-rule, and keeping Jorrocks in the same position he caught him, he set-to to measure the distance of his foot from the boundary, taking off in a line from the shed; when it certainly did appear that the length of a big toe was across the mark, and putting up his measure again, he insisted upon taking Jorrocks before a magistrate for the trespass.  Of course, no objection could be made, and they all adjourned to Mr. Boreem’s, when the whole case was laid before him.  To cut a long matter short—­after hearing the pros and cons, and referring to the Act of Parliament, his worship decided that a trespass had been committed; and though, he said, it went against the grain to do so, he fined Jorrocks in the mitigated penalty of one pound one.

This was a sad damper to our heroes, who returned to the castle with their prog untouched and no great appetite for dinner.  Being only a family party, when Mrs. B——­ retired, the subject naturally turned upon the morning’s mishap, and at every glass of port Jorrocks waxed more valiant, until he swore he would appeal against the “conwiction”; and remaining in the same mind when he awoke the next morning, he took the Temple in his way to St. Botolph Lane and had six-and-eightpence worth with Mr. Capias the attorney, who very judiciously argued each side of the question without venturing an opinion, and proposed stating a case for counsel to advise upon.