That hare made his escape into the garden, but Jack that was in the beggar's clothes soon let another out of the bag.
"Oh, master, there he is still pegging round. He can't make his escape: let us have a chase. The hall door is locked on the inside, and Mr. Jack can't get in."
"Stay quiet, I tell you."
In a few minutes he shouted out again that the hare was there still, but it was the third that Jack was just after giving its liberty. Well, by the laws, they couldn't be kept in any longer. Out pegged every mother's son of them, and the squire after them.
"Will I turn the spit, your honour, while they're catching the hareyeen?" says the beggar.
"Do, and don't let any one in for your life."
"Faith, an' I won't, you may depend on it."
The third hare got away after the others, and when they all came back from the hunt, there was neither beggar nor goose in the kitchen.
"Purshuin' to you, Jack," says the landlord, "you've come over me this time."
Well, while they were thinking of making out another dinner, a messenger came from Jack's father to beg that the squire, and the mistress, and the young lady would step across the fields, and take share of what God sent. There was no dirty mean pride about the family, and they walked over, and got a dinner with roast turkey, and roast beef, and their own roast goose; and the squire had like to burst his waistcoat with laughing at the trick, and Jack's good clothes and good manners did not take away any liking the young lady had for him already.
