Ah yes! This were a photo of my cousin Jack. That jacket he’m wearin’ it ‘ad pockets deep enough to ‘ide a rabbit, or even an ‘are. And on the right side, a long pocket for the gun.
‘E were proud of that gun, were Jack. The barrel and stock were shortened, but it were a fine piece. Given ‘ im by ‘is Lordship. Six ‘undred guineas cost that gun, afore Jack shortened ‘n. And Jack could nab anythin’ wi’ it; a pheasant now and then, a partridge or a rabbit.
“God’s Creatures,” said ‘e. “Put on this earth for the benefit of Man!
“and I’m a man!” said ‘e, “and who ‘as a better right!”
But since is lordship died, and the new person took ‘er over, the estate ‘ad fallen foul o’ furriners – Americans – and they ‘ad ‘ired Seth.
Strange that Seth, the poacher, now a gamekeeper. _ And Jack,
gamekeeper to ‘is lordship as were ‘is father and ‘is father’s father, and ‘is father before un; Jack were now the poacher.
I don’t rightly know when Jack decided that enough were enough, but ‘e did. And Jack were a powerful determined man.
Seth were ‘is enemy, as ‘ad been Seth’s father to Jack’s, ‘is grandfather to Jack’s grandfather and so on back and back to the time of the Normans.
“I’ll ‘ave ‘im,” says Jack. “I’ll ‘ave ‘im for sure!”
And ‘e bided ‘is time.
Those Yanks, powerful anxious for a bit of culture, decided to ‘ave a ceremonial openin’ of the season. They read all the books all right. They knew the proper date and that, but they didn’t know that Jack were waitin’ for ’em.
The great day came. The yankees, bedecked wi’ tweeds, and even Tartans! lined theirselves up in a girt row. They ‘ad beaters; they ‘ad dogs; they ‘ad Seth… Much good did it do ’em!

Just afore they commenced to shoot, Jack took ‘is revenge!
‘E ‘ad set a array of fire crackers throughout the estate. And just as the yanks was about to shoot – Jack set ’em off.
Laugh! Birds were flyin’ in all directions – Total chaos! And Jack just stood there alaughin’.
Seth, ‘is enemy, seein’ is triumph brought to nought, raised ‘is gun and shot ’im. They ‘ung ‘im of course. What else could they do – in front of fifty witnesses – an’ furriners at that. But it were a pity about poor Jack. This ‘ere is ‘is photo.

H. St V. BEECHEY