CROPS AND PROFITS. 127 



window a tiny, but a real offshoot of that great 

 mass of vegetable life which is flaunting over the 

 British ruin ; a little live bubble as it were, from that 

 stock of vitality which is searching all the crannies of 

 the masonry that belongs to the days of Elizabeth. 



I never look at it in times of idle musing, but its 

 shiny leaflets seem to carry me to the gray wreck of 

 castle : and the tramp through the meadows from 

 Leamington comes back the wet grass, the gray 

 walls, the broad-hatted English girls, hovering with 

 gleeful laughter about the ruin, and the flitch of 

 bacon hanging in the gatekeeper s house. Other- 

 times, the dainty tendrils of the vine lead me still 

 farther back ; and Leicester, Amy Robsart, Essex, 

 and Queen Bess with her followers, and all her 

 court, come trooping to my eye in the trail of this 

 poor little exiled creeper from Kenilworth. 



But this is not farming. 



&quot; Coombs,&quot; said I, &quot; what shall we plant upon 

 the flat ? &quot; not that I had no opinion on the subject, 

 but because in farming, there is a value in the sug 

 gestions of every practical worker. 



The Somersetshire man leans his head a little, as 

 if considering : &quot; We must have some artificial, sir 

 for the co ws Mangel or pale Belgians, both 

 good, sir ; some oats for the osses, sir ; potatoes, sir, 

 is a tidy crop &quot; 



