98 WITHIN AN HOUR OF LONDON TOWN. 



house, out into the meadow ; and back he comes 

 with his tail and ears depressed, for he feels that 

 he has been made a fool of. Then the youngsters 

 will shout and clap their hands in glee, to think how 

 clever their favourite " Blackie " is. The blackbird 

 cocks his head on one side, taps the bottom of his 

 cage with his bill, spreads his tail out and dashes 

 over his perches to and fro, at a most furious rate, 

 quite pleased at his own performances. I have 

 known large figures offered for a talented blackbird, 

 belonging to a country lad, such as a brand-new 

 suit of clothes and five shillings as well, all to no 

 purpose. His clothes were the worse for wear, 

 his shoes were as bad as they could be ; but for 

 all that, "he warn't a-goin' to let Blackie go." 



The rain has ceased falling, and the wind that 

 brought it has died away. All is quiet ; things are 

 resting. A light vapour rises from the meadows 

 by the river and floats away ; it is the steam from 

 the hot, thirsty earth ; the sun is sinking, and the 

 light in slanting rays shines on the wet young 

 foliage, and illumines the rustic spire close at hand. 

 The cattle are quiet ; they are enjoying the precious 

 coolness to their hearts' content. Not a sound is 



