thing off by asking no questions, and pretending to take it for
granted in a general way that the game was fairly come at; but he used
to say, that by receiving the booty he connived at a crime, made
himself a sharer in it, and if he gave a present to the man who
brought it, he even tempted him to repeat the fault.

One day poor Jack Weston, an honest fellow in the neighborhood, whom
Mr. Wilson had kindly visited and relieved in a long sickness, from
which he had but just recovered, was brought before him as he was
sitting on the justice's bench. Jack was accused of having knocked
down a hare; and of all the birds in the air, who should the informer
be but Black Giles the poacher. Mr. Wilson was grieved at the charge;
he had a great regard for Jack, but he had a still greater regard for
the law. The poor fellow pleaded guilty. He did not deny the fact, but
said he did not consider it a crime, for he did not think game was
private property, and he owned he had a strong temptation for doing
what he had done, which he hoped would plead in his excuse. The
justice desired to know what this temptation was.

"Sir," said the poor fellow, "you know I was given over this spring in
a bad fever. I had no friend in the world but you, sir. Under God, you
saved my life by your charitable relief; and I trust also you may have
helped to save my soul by your prayers and your good advice; for, by
the grace of God, I have turned over a new leaf since that sickness.

"I know I can never make you amends for all your goodness; but I
thought it would be some comfort to my full heart if I could but once
give you some little token of my gratitude. So I had trained a pair of
nice turtledoves for Madam Wilson; but they were stolen from me, sir,
and I do suspect Black Giles stole them. Yesterday morning, sir, as I