120 NOTES ON FIELDS AND CATTLE. 



" Very well, then, I'll have eight others ready." 



" Now mind, boys, be smart to your work to-mor- 

 row morning," directs the bailiff, as we cruise off 

 leisurely, and leave his part to him to do. 



Again behold the "saffron morning," Tithonus 

 rubbing his eyes, &c, as the poet has it. 



The men are betimes at the farm, and, under the 

 active superintendence of the bailiff, have been 

 getting out the sacks, putting a sheet under the 

 machine to catch what corn may fall through, 

 stripping the thatch, &c. The fireman has been 

 there, too, from a considerably earlier hour, and has 

 the steam up, and is all ready to begin. A couple of 

 men mount the stack with pikes. Two more have 

 got upon the thrashing-machine, and the others are 

 ranged about, one to tend the sack into which the 

 grain runs, others to clear the straw, build the new 

 stack, &c. Whew ! shrilly challenges the whistle — 

 whish-ish-sh-sh-ish storms defiantly the spare steam 

 underneath, indignant at being so discharged. 

 Whew ! again ; paff — paff, — round goes the fly-wheel, 

 ditto the long band — puff — puff — the game's afoot. 

 A frantic fit of energetic action — glows at once the 

 busy scene — clatter, gallop — clatter, gallop — whistle 

 — whew, wheew — clatter, gallop — clatter, gallop — 

 sheaves descending, straw upmounting, dust in clouds, 

 men begrimed — eat with one hand, work with the 

 other — clatter, gallop — clatter, gallop. Eh! what a 

 jolly rapid job ! and such a contrast to the old dawdling 

 day after day, utterly, in every sense, unsatisfactory 

 flail-work. How it's done is this. Imagine the guards 

 atop, precipitating sheaves into the feed-opening, just 



