tiger; but nobody minded wot 'e said, Bob Pretty being, as I've
often told people, the black sheep o' Claybury, wot with poaching and,
wot was worse, 'is artfulness.

"But the very next morning something 'appened that made Bob Pretty look
silly and wish 'e 'adn't talked quite so fast; for at five o'clock
Frederick Scott, going down to feed 'is hins, found as the tiger 'ad been
there afore 'im and 'ad eaten no less than seven of 'em. The side of the
hin-'ouse was all broke in, there was a few feathers lying on the ground,
and two little chicks smashed and dead beside 'em.

"The way Frederick Scott went on about it you'd 'ardly believe. He said
that Govinment 'ud 'ave to make it up to 'im, and instead o' going to
work 'e put the two little chicks and the feathers into a pudding basin
and walked to Cudford, four miles off, where they 'ad a policeman.

"He saw the policeman, William White by name, standing at the back door
of the 'Fox and Hounds' public house, throwing a 'andful o' corn to the
landlord's fowls, and the first thing Mr. White ses was, 'it's off my
beat,' he ses.

"'But you might do it in your spare time, Mr. White,' ses Frederick
Scott. It's very likely that the tiger'll come back to my hin 'ouse for
the rest of 'em, and he'd be very surprised if 'e popped 'is 'ead in and
see you there waiting for 'im.'

"He'd 'ave reason to be,' ses Policeman White, staring at 'im.

"'Think of the praise you'd get,' said Frederick Scott, coaxing like.

"'Look 'ere,' ses Policeman White, 'if you don't take yourself and that
pudding basin off pretty quick, you'll come along o' me, d'ye see?
You've been drinking and you're in a excited state.'

"He gave Frederick Scott a push and follered 'im along the road, and
every time Frederick stopped to ask 'im wot 'e was doing of 'e gave 'im
another push to show 'im.

"Frederick Scott told us all about it that evening, and some of the
bravest of us went up to the 'Cauliflower' to talk over wot was to be
done, though we took care to get 'ome while it was quite light. That
night Peter Gubbins's two pigs went. They were two o' the likeliest pigs
I ever seed, and all Peter Gubbins could do was to sit up in bed
shivering and listening to their squeals as the tiger dragged 'em off.
Pretty near all Claybury was round that sty next morning looking at the
broken fence. Some of them looked for the tiger's footmarks, but it was
dry weather and they couldn't see any. Nobody knew who