276 IN THE GREEN LEAF 



the same way that they do common humanity ; 

 the unkind air-currents rough the beasts up 

 when out at feed, causing their coats to " stare," 

 as it is termed. By opening one of the solid 

 gates in the hedge, outlets set here and there, 

 the stock were at once in the loo and in com- 

 fort, whatever came. 



But I have lived to see rows of fine old 

 elms, which formerly shaded green lanes on 

 either side where the whole stock of a farm, 

 pigs included, could loiter away through a long 

 summer's day, so well contented with the cool, 

 sheltered retreat that the stock-boy and his 

 grey bob-tailed dog could doze and sleep, wake 

 and doze again, having nothing whatever to do 

 ruthlessly cut down for no earthly purpose. 

 Yet shelter, above all things, with food, is im- 

 peratively necessary for man and beast, as those 

 old tillers of the soil knew when they guarded 

 and tended with religious care the trees and 

 hedges which their forefathers had planted. 



An old rustic said to me lately, " This 'ere 

 farm wus a loo place one time ; you knows how 

 stock an' craps did sort o' kindly in the old 

 days, when you wus 'bout here. Now, when 

 the wind blows, 'tis enough to cut yer ears off. 

 It 'ud shave the smellers off of a mouse." 



