CHAPTER X.
FARMER WILLUM'S PLACE: SNIPE SHOOTING One October morning towards the end of the month, Orion and I started to beat over Redcote Farm upon the standing invitation of the occupier.
There was a certainty of sport of some kind, because the place had remained almost unchanged for the last century.

It is 'improvement' that drives away game and necessitates the pheasant preserve.
The low whitewashed walls of the house were of a dull yellowish hue from the beating of the weather.

They supported a vast breadth of thatched roof drilled by sparrows and starlings.

Under the eaves the swallows' nests adhered, and projecting shelves were fixed to prevent any inconvenience from them.

Some of the narrow windows were still darkened with the black boarding put up in the days of the window tax.
In the courtyard a number of stout forked stakes were used for putting the dairy buckets on, after being cleaned, to dry.