Took a walk in the fields, bird-nesting and botanizing, and had like
to have been taken up as a poacher in Hilly Wood, by a meddlesome,
conceited gamekeeper belonging to Sir John Trollope. He swore that he
had seen me in the act, more than once, of shooting game, when I
never shot even so much as a sparrow in my life. What terrifying
rascals these woodkeepers and gamekeepers are! They make a prison of
the forest, and are its gaolers.