A JOURNAL KEPT IN THE COUNTRY. 1 29 



which comes the shout from the waggon, the warning 

 to the man on the top to " Staand faast ! " and the 

 adjurations to Sally and Rodney in the shafts. 



Mrs. Lydia has brought Alice, who tugs at a rake, 

 after a disappointed attempt on a fine new fork. 

 Margaret Fletcher looks on with Mrs. Lydia, a 

 little wistful or rebellious at admission of hay-days 

 over ; very soon I see her raking with Mae'ry and 

 Liza in high spirits, careless of a tenue which was 

 not meant for the hayfield. 



Afternoon declining, we have tea in the field, piling 

 divans of hay round about the kettle. Zero wakes 

 from his doze and balances sleepily on to his hind 

 legs, more from habit than a desire of bread and 

 butter. He is presently trying to convey to Alice 

 the fact that the tradition of the house against very 

 sweet tea as a beverage for terriers is one he never 

 accepted. 



"May he have one more lump?" I hear; and 

 discover that the mixture is already more than 

 half-and-half. 



The jolting waggon comes and goes, and the field 

 clears slowly before our eyes. Up in the yard the 

 grey-green pile grows under the feet of the men. 

 The elders along the upper hedge hang thick with 

 their creamy panicles of flower; and their smell, 



K 



