A GLOUCESTERSHIEE MILK-MAID. 169 



flit around it. There is scarce a breath of air. 



the hares and rabbits come out to feed, and the vale 

 re-echoes with the near and distant and mellowed 

 lowings of the milch-cows answering to the call of the 

 farmer's daughters or of their male and female servants. 

 The atmosphere is perfumed by the sweet breath of 

 kine mingled with the fragrance which arises from the 

 bruised fresh grass over wliich they pass, and the ruddy 

 fruit of the orchards. There is a beautiful girl with her 

 pail on her head ! She would not shame a drawing- 

 room ; and see, before her trot two fat, sleek, foxhound 

 puppies, their dappled coats as soft as a mole-skin, and 

 their wrinkled faces, full eyes, and trailing ears expres- 

 sive of sagacity and content. They tumble through the 

 stile by the footboard, being too young to jump; one 

 of them slips into the ditch, and is extracted by the 

 graceful girl, who stoops to pull him out without 

 casting the pail from her head, when on they go 

 again. The favourite cow is milked first, and, while 

 the full pails of the farmer's daughter and her at- 

 tendants are rattling and frothing up in their milky 

 treasures, the two puppies wander together in the 

 grass. A delicious odour then assails their nose — 

 it arises from a fine old hare who has not yet left her 

 form. Cautiously they venture, or the boldest of them 

 alone at first, to smell her; up she jumps, and the 

 puppies, uttering a short suppressed bark, for it does 

 not amount to a bay, retreat towards their young mis- 

 tress. Her forehead is still pressed against the cow, 

 but she turns her healthful cheek, and, laughingly, 

 asks the puppies, " What is the matter ? " Em- 

 boldened by finding that the hare has not pursued 

 them, they return to her form, her scent is agreeable, 

 and they trace it. One puppy gets lost in the long 



