A JOURNAL KEPT IN THE COUNTRY. 4! 



might have been the forerunner of the gayest Spring 

 procession that ever wound across Greek frieze or 

 vase. A moment after, with a fervid grasp of the 

 small fingers on my own, before our greetings were 

 well over, I was swept away to visit the pigeon-house, 

 and the calf in the yard, and Zero the terrier, amid 

 a torrent of question and answer at once, pointed by 

 the little toss of the head which shakes the hair out 

 of the blue eyes and gives a breathing pause for the 

 next remark. 



The pigeons rose a hundred strong with a thun- 

 derous rattle of wings as we came to the barn, beat 

 up against the wind till they cleared the fir clump, 

 then swung round till the wind was behind them, and 

 came headlong down the sky in a storm of flashing 

 plumes, to settle fluttering on the red roof again and 

 renew the exercises we had interrupted, with glis- 

 tening throat and pompous step 



" girando e mormorando." 



We recognise with shrill delight all the old friends, 

 the chocolatey tumbler with no hair on his head, and 

 the great old runt, and the nun that wouldn't leave 

 his wife to fly with the others, because she had the 

 rheumatism and had to stay behind. The calf 

 danced round the straw-yard for us, because he 



