8 FRESH WOODS. 



had become very warm, and had for some 

 time, when the rain ceased, fished without 

 my mackintosh. When I got into the trap 

 to return home I began to feel the biting wind 

 again my feet were wet, of course ; and that 

 night I went to bed with a chill and fit of 

 sintering. 



On Wednesday morning I was too ill to 

 fish, and, truth to say, not very enthusiastic 

 about it ; so, instead, I strolled round the 

 farm with mine host. He is a breeder of 

 pedigree Hereford cattle, and possesses a 

 herd of over a hundred animals as fine as 

 one might wish to see. I was shown four two- 

 year-old cows and their bull-calves, which, 

 on Saturday morning next, will be on the 

 broad Atlantic (in charge of my host's son), 

 on their way to found a colony of pure-bred 

 Herefords in South America. Let us hope 

 that his unusual pluck and enterprise may 

 not result in disappointment. 



It seems that the United States, which 

 until lately was such a fine market for pedi- 

 gree Herefords, is now virtually closed. The 

 Americans have their own Herd-book, and 

 unless imported Herefords are entered there- 

 in, they are tabooed, in spite of any genea- 

 logical claims they may advance in their own 

 country. 



