56 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE 



his spirits equable. Unless matters go very badly 

 indeed, he acquires a happy knack of regarding 

 everything as all for the best. If the rain does 

 harm to the hay, it is just what he wants for the 

 roots or the shooting corn-crops ; and if prolonged 

 drought is parching his herbage and forcing him to 

 make premature inroads on his hayricks, at least it is 

 ripening the wheat in perfection. If the length and 

 the breadth of the islands were before us to choose, 

 we scarcely know where we should prefer to farm. 

 Though the weight of the winter snowdrifts might 

 lie somewhat heavy on our mind, we fancy we 

 might be happy as a Dandie Dinmont in the dales 

 of the Scotch border or among the moorlands on 

 the Cheviots. We can imagine the pleasure of the 

 early walk among our flocks over the grassy hills 

 or the heathery uplands, with the silence only broken 

 by the bleating of sheep, the whistle of the plover, or 

 the cry of the curlew. We can conceive the intense 

 excitement of lambing-time, when hopes are blossoming 

 into fruition, and the young ones are dropping into the 

 folds by pairs ; the lively scenes of the washing and 

 shearing ; the drafting off the surplus stock for despatch 

 to the Falkirk Tryst or some other of the markets. 

 But then for a skilled and scientific agriculturist, whose 

 soul is in his pursuits, we know there can be nothing 

 like a great farm in the fertile Lothians or the Carse of 

 Gowrie, lying round its superb steading. Everything 

 that can be done is done by steam-power ; everything is 

 ingeniously made the most of; the latest discoveries in 



