HOW WE MADE OUR HAY. 129 , 



in an hour. Mine ally, the pleasant, gossiping, vil- 

 lage carpenter, whom everybody abuses arid every- 

 body employs, was called in for the occasion, straw 

 basket, tools, and all. But when we came to work, 

 notwithstanding the clear printed directions sent 

 down, it took us the whole evening to set it up. 

 Brisk, thoughtful employment was it, from dinner 

 until dark, upon a summers day. In the morning 

 we were up betimes : in fact, I had myself been able 

 to sleep but a broken sleep, off and on, with startling- 

 dreams, as though one had supped on nuts. 



It was somewhere about two o'clock when I arose 

 and woke the bailiff, who lived in a cottage on the 

 premises. 



A few moments only elapsed when out he came, 

 blinking, and shaking himself, and rubbing his eyes, 

 but as good humoured as ever. 



Sending him to tackle the horses, for I was anxious 

 to surprise the men at their coming, I betook myself 

 to the barn, and ran over every fitting with my eye 

 carefully, to be sure that every requisite was there — 

 oil, straps, the screw-driver, spare wire, soap for the 

 cogs, &c, &c. — carefully, so that nothing should be 

 wanting at the last minute. The machine we found, 

 upon trial, rather wide to pass through two of the 

 gates, and we had, consequently, to take the posts up, 

 and draw it through ourselves, lest the horses, by an 

 unfortunately impetuous movement, should smash or 

 strain it. All this unfortunately took time. At 

 length, however, we stand within the field. The 

 horses are hooked on : it is past four o'clock, and 

 quite light. The machine is so independent, there 



