FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 173 



Occasionally he swallows a grain, just to 

 keep up his strength for the work in hand ; 

 but I do not think that he takes more than 

 one out of a dozen, which is much less than 

 his share. 



But he has the defects of his virtues, and 

 is a good deal of a swash-buckler. He is 

 of the time of Louis XIII. and XIV., and 

 reminds me now of the dainty Aramis, and 

 now of Athos, Porthos, and the rough 

 and ready D Artagnan. lie will vary his 

 amusements by periodically facing his 

 neighbour, the Plymouth Rock rooster in 

 the adjoining yard, like his lamented prede 

 cessor ; and this morning he managed to get 

 over the high fence, and to give the latter 

 such a drubbing that he was fain to retire 

 into the privacy of his own apartments, 

 with both eyes closed, and generally such 

 a wreck as was pitiful to behold. I hope 

 that this interview has so far settled their 

 differences that hereafter peace may reign 

 upon the confines of their dominions. 



Strangely enough, the locusts have not 

 invaded the precincts of the village. Two 

 or three days ago, I saw one fluttering 

 through my dining-room that is to be, but 

 it was the only one that I have seen this 

 side of the hills. In the hottest part of 



