THE FAERY YEAR 



poachers' ferreting are made, the women netting 

 quite openly. Here is sure to be some one who can 

 re-rush a chair, and understands basket-making. 

 Petty sessions are at times quite busy and interesting 

 through misdemeanours of folk who live here. 

 Townsmen of public spirit would like to pull down 

 the " hovels " of this place, and build in bright 

 red brick "Acacia Villa," "The Limes," "Belle 

 View." But somebody nets too sure a gain out of 

 this little warren to think of such a thing. 



It is the small landlord, the man that bought the 

 cottages with capital penuriously pinched together 

 from the profits of a shop of all wares, who owns 

 and thrives on the poacher and gipsy quarter of 

 the town. For sanitary inspection and talk about 

 unsightly cottages he has no great sympathy. It 

 is the outer end of the street that offends the 

 suburban cottages. The nearer the town the better 

 the street. The public-houses like the private 

 improve towards the upper end of the street, till 

 finally you reach the grammar school, and respect- 

 ability cannot further go. 



The Bee as Robber 



The patriotism of the honey bee, its suppression 

 of self for the commonweal of the hive, begins and 

 ends at home. There is nothing cosmopolitan about 

 the morality of the bee. "My country, right or 

 wrong," is the principle it acts on. We are not 

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