I COUNTRY PLACES. 177 



'of the country, and I wrote to him about it, and he said 

 he would come and see them. The day he come was 

 rather roughish and cold : he seemed sort of bad when 

 ihe come into the house, and had to have some brandy. 

 jBy-and-by he got better, and out we started ; but just 

 'as we was going through the yard this old dog nips him 

 by the hand — took him right through his hand — made 

 him look main straight. However, washed his hand 

 and bound it up, and started out again. (Chuckle.) 

 ! Hadn't gone very far, and was getting through a hedge, 

 and dalled if he didn't fall into the pond, flop! 

 (Chuckle.) I suppose he didn't like it, for he never 

 jsaid nothing about the mounds in his book when it 

 come out — left 'em out altogether.' 



This pond still exists, and Mr. Nestor Hay had noted 

 a curious thing about it. Across the middle of the pond 

 a tree had fallen ; it was just on a level with the surface 

 of the water. A pair of water-rats always ate their food 

 on this tree. They would go out into the grass of the 

 meadow, bite off the vegetation that suited their taste, 

 i and carry it back in their mouths to the tree, and there 

 eat it in safety, with water, as it were, all round them 

 like a moat. This they did a hundred times — in fact, 

 every day. 'But,' said Mr. Hay, 'you can't watch 

 nothing now a minute without some great lout coming 

 along with a stale baccy pipe in his mouth, making the 

 air stink ; they spoils everything, these here half-towny 

 fellows ; everybody got a neasty stale pipe in their 

 mouths, and they gets over the hedges anywhere, and 

 disturbs everything.' It is common on the banks of 

 a stream or a pond to see half a dozen of these little 

 beaver-like water-voles out feeding in the grass, and they 

 eat it when they find it. At this particular pond the 

 two rats diverged from the custom of their race, and 



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