It is an old saying, that "if there were no receivers there would be no
thieves," and it would have been of very little use for Rushbrook to
take the game if he had not had the means of disposing of it. In this
point, Byres, the pedlar, was a valuable accessory. Byres was a radical
knave, who did not admire hard work. At first he took up the profession
of bricklayer's labourer, one that is of a nature only affording
occasional work and moderate wages. He did this that he might apply to
the parish for relief; and do nothing for the major portion of the year.
But even a few months' work would not suit him, and subsequently he
gained his sustenance by carrying on his head a large basket of
crockery, and disposing of his wares among the cottagers. At last he
took out a pedlar's license--perhaps one of the most dangerous permits
ever allowed by a government, and which has been the cause of much of
the ill-will and discontent fomented among the lower classes. Latterly,
the cheapness of printing and easiness of circulation have rendered the
profession of less consequence: twenty years ago the village ale-houses
were not provided with newspapers; it was an expense never thought of;
the men went to drink their beer and talk over the news of the vicinity,
and if there was a disturbance in any other portion of the United
Kingdom, the fact was only gained by rumour, and that vaguely and long
after it had taken place. But when the pedlar Byres made his
appearance, which he at last did, weekly or oftener, as it might happen,
there was a great change; he was the party who supplied information,
and, in consequence, he was always welcome, and looked upon as an
oracle; the best seat near the fire was reserved for him, and having
deposited his pack upon the table or in a corner, he would then produce
the _Propeller_, or some other publication full of treason and
blasphemy, and read it aloud for the benefit of the labourers assembled.
A few months were more than sufficient to produce the most serious
effects: men who had worked cheerfully through the day, and retired to
bed satisfied with their lot, and thankful that work was to be obtained,
now remained at the public-house, canvassing the conduct of government,
and, leaving their resort, satisfied in their own minds that they were
ill-used, harshly treated, and in bitter bondage. If they met their
superiors, those very parties to whom they were indebted for employment,
there was no respect shown to them as formerly or, if so, it was sullen
and forced acknowledgement. The church was gradually deserted--the
appearance of the pastor was no longer a signal for every hat to be
lifted from the head; on the contrary, boys of sixteen or seventeen
years of age would lean against the church, or the walls of the
churchyard, with their hands in both pockets, and a sort of leer upon
their faces, as though they defied the pastor on his appearance--and
there would they remain outside during the service, meeting, unquailed
and without blushing, his eyes, cast upon them as he came out again.
Such was the state of things in the village of Grassford in one year
after the pedlar had added it to his continual rounds--and Byres was a
great favourite, for he procured for the women what they commissioned
him to obtain, supplied the girls with ribbons and gewgaws, and trusted
to a considerable extent. His reappearance was always anxiously looked
for; he lived scot-free at the public-house, for he brought so much
custom, and was the occasion of the drinking of so much ale, that the
landlord considered his coming as a godsend. His box of ware was well
supplied in the sunnier months, for the fine weather was the time for
the wearing of gay ribbons; but in the winter he travelled more to
receive orders, or to carry away the game supplied to him by the
poachers, with whom he was in league. Had his box been examined during
the shooting season, it would have been found loaded with pheasants, not
with trinkets and ribbons. It need hardly be observed after this that
Byres was the party who took off the hands of Rushbrook all the game
which he procured, and which he had notice to call for before daylight,
generally the _second_ morning after it had been obtained; for Rushbrook
was too cautious to trust Byres with his secret, that of never going out
of a night without having previously pretended intoxication, and having
suffered himself to be led or carried home.
Our readers will acknowledge that little Joey was placed in a very
dangerous position; it is true that he was not aware that he was doing
wrong in assisting his father; nevertheless, being a reflective boy, it
did sometimes occur to him that it was odd that what was right should be
done so secretly; and he attempted to make out how it was that the birds
that flew about everywhere, and appeared to belong to every one, might
not be shot in the open day. He knew that the laws forbade it; but he
inquired of himself why such laws should be. Joey had heard but one
side of the question, and was therefore puzzled. It was fortunate for
him that the pastor of the parish, although he did not reside in it, did
at least once a week call in at Mr F's school, and examine the boys.
Mr Furness, who was always sober during the school hours, was very
proud of these visits, and used to point out little Joey as his most
promising scholar. This induced the pastor to take more immediate
notice of our hero, and the commendation which he received, and the
advice that was bestowed upon him, was probably the great cause why Joey
did attend assiduously to his lessons, which his otherwise vagrant life
would have disinclined him to do; and also kept a character for honesty
and good principle, which he really deserved. Indeed, his father and
mother, setting aside poaching, and the secrecy resorted to in
consequence, were by no means bad examples in the ordinary course of
life; they did to their neighbours as they would be done by, were fair
and honest in their dealings, and invariably inculcated probity and a
regard to truth on their son. This may appear anomalous to many of our
readers, but there are many strange anomalies in this world. It may
therefore be stated in a very few words, that although our little hero
had every chance of eventually following the road to ruin, yet, up to
the present time, he had not entered it.
Such was the life led by little Joey for three years subsequent to our
introduction of him to the reader; every day he became more useful to
his father; latterly he had not attended school but in the forenoon,
for, as we have before observed, Joey could, from his diminutive size
and unsuspicious appearance, do much that his father would not have
ventured to attempt. He was as well versed in the art of snaring as his
father, and sauntering like a child about the fields and hedge-rows,
would examine his nooses, take out the game, and hide it till he could
bring it home. Sometimes he would go out at night attended only by Mum,
and the dog would invariably give him mute notice, by simply standing
with his ears and tail erect, when the keepers had discovered the
snares, and were lying in wait for the poacher, to lay hold of him when
he came to ascertain his success. Even in such a case, Joey very often
would not retreat, but, crawling on his stomach, would arrive at the
snare, and take out the animal without the keepers perceiving him; for
their eyes were invariably directed to the horizon, watching the
appearance of some stout figure of a man, while Joey crawled along,
bearing away the prize unseen. At other times, Joey would reap a rich
harvest in the broad day, by means of his favourite game-cock. Having
put on the animal his steel spurs, he would plunge into the thickest of
the cover, and, selecting some small spot of cleared ground for the
combat, he would throw down his gallant bird, and conceal himself in the
brushwood; the game-cock would immediately crow, and his challenge was
immediately answered by the pugnacious male pheasant, who flew down to
meet him: the combat was short, for the pheasant was soon pierced by the
sharp steel of his adversary; and as one antagonist fell dead, again
would the game-cock crow, and his challenge be accepted by another. In
an hour or two the small arena was a field of blood Joey would creep
forward, put his victorious cock into his bag together with many dead
adversaries, and watch an opportunity for a safe retreat.
Such was the employment of our hero; and although suspicion had often
been attached to his father, none had an idea that there had been a
violation of the laws on the part of the son, when an event took place
which changed our hero's destiny.