heless, like
a brainless and unreasoning Briton, he persisted in maintaining on the
premises a large stock of cocks, hens, and other poultry. Of course
all sorts of depredators visited the place from time to time; foxes
and gipsies wrought havoc in the night; while in the day-time, I
regret to have to confess, that visits from the Rugby boys, and
consequent disappearances of ancient and respectable fowls, were not
unfrequent. Tom and East had during the period of their outlawry
visited the barn in question for felonious[16] purposes, and on one
occasion had conquered and slain a duck there and borne away the
carcass triumphantly, hidden in their handkerchiefs. However, they
were sickened of the practice by the trouble and anxiety which
the wretched duck's body caused them. They carried it to Sally
Harrowell's, in hopes of a good supper; but she, after examining it,
made a long face, and refused to dress or have anything to do with it.

[16] #Felonious#: unlawful.

THE TROUBLESOME DUCK.

Then they took it into their study, and began plucking it themselves;
but what to do with the feathers, where to hide them?

"Good gracious, Tom, what a lot of feathers a duck has!" groaned East,
holding a bag full in his hand, and looking disconsolately at the
carcass, not yet half plucked.

"And I do think he's getting high,[17] too, already," said Tom,
smelling at him cautiously, "so we must finish him up soon."

[17] #High#: tainted; beginning to spoil.

"Yes, all very well, but how are we to cook him? I'm sure I'm not
going to try it on in the hall or passages; we can't afford to be
roasting ducks about, our character's too bad."

"I wish we were rid of the brute," said Tom, throwing him on the table
in disgust. And after a day or two more it became clear that got rid
of he must be; so they packed him and sealed him up in brown paper,
and put him in the cupboard of an unoccupied study, where he was found
in the holidays by the matron, a grewsome body.

They had never been duck-hunting there since, but others had, and the
bold yeoman was very sore on the subject, and bent on making an
example of the first boys he could catch. So he and his shepherds
crouched behind the hurdles, and watched the party who were
approaching all unconscious.

Why should that old guinea-fowl be lying out in the hedge just at this
particular moment of all the year? Who can say? Guinea-fowls always
are--so are all other things, animals