self upon those that belong to his
Neighbour. My Friend Sir ROGER generally goes two or three Miles from
his House, and gets into the Frontiers of his Estate, before he beats
about in search of [a [1]] Hare or Partridge, on purpose to spare his
own Fields, where he is always sure of finding Diversion, when the worst
comes to the worst. By this Means the Breed about his House has time to
encrease and multiply, besides that the Sport is the more agreeable
where the Game is the harder to come at, and [where it] does not lie so
thick as to produce any Perplexity or Confusion in the Pursuit. For
these Reasons the Country Gentleman, like the Fox, seldom preys near his
own Home.

In the same manner I have made a Month's Excursion out of the Town,
which is the great Field of Game for Sportsmen of my Species, to try my
Fortune in the Country, where I have started several Subjects, and
hunted them down, with some Pleasure to my self, and I hope to others. I
am here forced to use a great deal of Diligence before I can spring any
thing to my Mind, whereas in Town, whilst I am following one Character,
it is ten to one but I am crossed in my Way by another, and put up such
a Variety of odd Creatures in both Sexes, that they foil the Scent of
one another, and puzzle the Chace. My greatest Difficulty in the Country
is to find Sport, and in Town to chuse it. In the mean time, as I have
given a whole Month's Rest to the Cities of _London_ and _Westminster_,
I promise my self abundance of new Game upon my return thither.

It is indeed high time for me to leave the Country, since I find the
whole Neighbourhood begin to grow very inquisitive after my Name and
Character. My Love of Solitude, Taciturnity, and particular way of Life,
having raised a great Curiosity in all these Parts.

The Notions which have been framed of me are various; some look upon me
as very proud, [some as very modest,] and some as very melancholy.
_Will. Wimble_, as my Friend the Butler tells me, observing me very much
alone, and extreamly silent when I am in Company, is afraid I have
killed a Man. The Country People seem to suspect me for a Conjurer; and
some of them hearing of the Visit [which [2]] I made to _Moll White_,
will needs have it that Sir ROGER has brought down a Cunning Man with
him, to cure the old Woman, and free the Country from her Charms. So
that the Character which I go under in part of the Neighbourhood, is
what they here call a _White Witch_.