76 THE APPRENTICE. 



and the stamping of the dancers. Three of the pots on 

 the fire began to boil together, and there was a cry for 

 the cook. He came rushing forward, pushed the man 

 engaged in baking from out his way with one hand, and 

 drawing the seat from under the one employed in 

 making ready the bread with the other, he began to 

 shout out, so as to drown their united voices, for meal 

 and salt. Both were brought him, and in a few minutes 

 he had completed his task/ 



Wild companions, a wild lodging, and wild mode of 

 life ; nor can much bodily comfort be associated with 

 the idea of a diet w^hose sole variation is from oatmeal 

 in porridge to oatmeal in cakes : but Miller is not un- 

 happy. He is now recognized as a good workman, and 

 his frame is more capable of labour than in the previous 

 season. His spirit is buoyant, and full of gay, hopeful 

 humour; and his readiness to take and return a jest, 

 together with his sprightliness and his obliging dis- 

 position, secure him the good-will of his companions. 

 On the long summer evenings, when work is over, he 

 can wander about the district, climbing its ridges of 

 hill, exploring its ruins and natural curiosities, diving 

 into the recesses of its woods, and following the course 

 of its streams. He is still boy enough to enjoy the 

 raspberries which grow in the woods, and the poetry 

 of his nature finds aliment in the new and picturesque 

 aspects of hill and plain which every eminence reveals 

 to him. 



The district of Miller's sojourn at this time, dreary 

 and bare though he calls it, is not without its pleasing 

 and impressive features. Gaunt hills rise everywhere, 

 warming at autumn, when the heather blooms, into 

 solemn glow of purple, but for the greater part of the 

 year presenting a surface of black-brown, fringed here 



