and buy a nice hare, and git a bill for it, and ha' the bill reseated; be sure, bor, yow take care o' that.' Next da', up come the police, kind o' smilin'. 'I'a got a hare for ye,' ses I. 'How much is it, bor?' ses he. 'Two shillin's,' ses I. 'Tha's tu much,' ses he. 'Don't sin golderin about no sech nonsense,' ses I; 'there's the hare, and I 'on't take no less. If you don't like it, you may lump it.' So off he go over that there midder, with the hare in his pocket. In a da' or two, he come agin, with his hat cocked o' one side, and sa', 'Yow must go along o' me to the magistrate's, Setten, about that there hare. Yow'll hear further about that.' 'Very well,' ses I, 'I ha'n't no objections. Other folks can see jest as far into a millstone as yow, with all your know.' So when the gen'lmen were a goin' to hear my case, I pulled out the bill riddy reseated, and pruvved that I'd sold the hare agin at a loss, all to oblige the nice-lookin' police."'[1]
In mediæval days the hare claimed the protection of the law no less than the red deer or the wild boar. In England, as also upon the Continent, the chase of the hare was held in high esteem. A special breed of fleet greyhounds, termed leporarii, was maintained both in England and in France. King John, for
- ↑ The Dovecote and Aviary, p. 448.
