JUNE 235 



V-shaped tub half full of unpleasant-looking fluid. Now, indeed, 

 the long-suffering sheep thinks that the end of all things is at 

 hand. Its legs kick convulsively, its anxious ugly head projects 

 from the yellow flood, while in the subdued light of the barn its 

 eyes turn green with fright as it utters a succession of gurgling 

 groans and baas. Next, if it be a ewe, so soon as the liquid has 

 got a good bite of the skin she is lifted from the tub and set free, 

 the roller on the edge of it preventing her from hurting herself, 

 however fiercely she may struggle. If, on the contrary, it is a 

 lamb which has longer wool, it is laid upon the strainer, which, 

 furnished with bars, is made of the cover of the bath and sup- 

 ported by a rest, where all superfluous fluid is squeezed from its 

 fleece to run back into the tub. Then it is hoisted over the roller 

 and departs into the field, looking exactly as though it had de- 

 veloped a violent attack of jaundice. 



This afternoon, as I was working in my study, I noticed how 

 great is the number of birds that haunt the lawn this year, per- 

 haps because I have succeeded in persuading the domestic powers 

 to dispense with some of their numerous retinue of cats. On the 

 middle of the lawn is an old thrush busily engaged in feeding an 

 apoplectic-looking member of its family, which hops after it in a 

 most comical fashion, and takes down worms quite regardless of 

 size or number. Indeed, the mother thrush is kept at it without 

 pause. Again and again she sets her heels into the ground and 

 pulls at a great worm, which slowly stretches out like an india- 

 rubber band until it breaks in two or comes up bodily. But the 

 old bird is never allowed to refresh itself with a delicate morsel, for 

 its offspring comes behind and pecks at it until, with an angry little 

 sound, it thrusts the juicy captive down its insatiable maw. These 

 proceedings appear greatly to incite the indignation of the porch 

 swallows, who have come up from below the hill to look after their 

 nest. Perhaps, as they live on insects themselves, they do not like 

 people who eat worms. At any rate, with loud twitterings they 

 swoop again and again at the pair, missing their heads each time 

 by not more than the eighth of an inch. These demonstrations, 



