etting it. That was a
piece of his cunning--that he might escape responsibility.

The shepherd, too, when obliquely questioned, shook his head, pursed his
lips, threw his pitching-bar over his shoulder, and marched off with a
mysterious hint that our friend Ikey would some day put his 'vut in it.'
It did not surprise us that the shepherd should turn his back on
anything of the kind; for he was a leading man among the 'Ranters,' and
frequently exhorted them in his cottage.

The carter's lad was about at the time, and for the moment we thought of
applying to him. He was standing on the threshold of the stable, under
the horseshoes and weasles' feet nailed up to keep the witches away,
teasing a bat that he had found under the tiles. But suddenly the dusky
thing bit him sharply, and he uttered an oath; while the creature,
released, flew aimlessly into the elms. It was better to avoid him.

Indoors, they would have put a very heavy hand upon the notion had they
known of it: so we had to rely solely upon the teaching of experiment.
In the first attempt, a stick that had been put by for the thatcher, but
which he had not yet split, was cut short and sharpened for the plug
that prevents the animal carrying away the wire when snared. This is
driven into the earth; at the projecting end a notch was cut to hold the
string attached to the end of the wire away from the run.

A smaller stick supported the wire above the ground; this latter only
just sufficiently thrust into the sward to stand firmly upright. Willow
was used for this at first; but it is a feeble wood: it split too much,
or bent and gave way instead of holding the wire in its place. The best
for the purpose we found were the nut-tree rods that shoot up among the
hazel thickets, no larger than the shaft of an arrow, and almost as
straight. A slit about half an inch deep was made in the upper end, and
in this slit the shank of the wire was sunk. Once or twice the upright
was peeled; but this was a mistake, for the white wand was then too
conspicuous. The bark should be left on.

Three copper wires twisted tight formed the snare itself; we twisted
them like the strands of a rope, thinking it would give more strength.
The wire projected horizontally, the loop curling downwards. It was
first set up at a spot where a very broad and much-worn run--more like a
footpath than a rabbit track--forked into several lesser runs, and at
about five yards from the hedge. But though