True: the mind in that state may be cunning but it is a cunning which betrays oftener than conceals; like that of the poor cushat, which vainly tries to mislead a practised fowler by hovering over the bushes where her nest and her nestlings are not.
EnterMorganand a Labourer.
BRUTON.
Well, Morgan, what brings you and this good man here?
MORGAN.
This man. Sir, found a hat last night.
LABOURER.
Ay, please your honour, just as we were all setting off after the villain that killed that there gentleman.
JUSTICE.
Tell us, my good friend, in what manner you found it.
LABOURER.
In no manner at all, please your honour. I only sees it on the grass, and I picks it up.
JUSTICE.
Well, then, it was lying on the grass when you picked it up?
