borne away the carcase 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. 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 carcase, not yet half plucked.
"And I do think he's getting high, too, already," said Tom, smelling at him cautiously, "so we must finish him up soon."
"Yes, all very well, but how are we to cook him? I'm sure I ain't 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
