THROUGH FIRS AND HEATHER. 297 



the farmers' landlords were gentlemen of the old 

 school. That school is, they say, broken up now 

 the more's the pity. Some who were trained in 

 that old school are, we are happy to say, still left to 

 us ; but none too many, only enough to show those, 

 of whom we have plenty, what they ought to be. 

 One thing is evident, that from the time the tillers of 

 the soil have had voting power in their hands, politi- 

 cal philanthropists have been exceedingly anxious 

 about their welfare aesthetic coffee-taverns, to wit, 

 versiis the public-house. But I am also very certain 

 that when once the agricultural labourer knows 

 what he ought to do he does not quite know this 

 yet he will do it and make no mistake about it. 



When he does wake up, it will be to keep awake. 

 If as a class the agricultural population appears easy 

 to lead, it is only in appearance and due to the force 

 of circumstances. The time may come when they 

 will be leaders, but this is a question that will hardly 

 bear thinking about by those who know the real 

 state of the case. 



Thinking passes the time away, and we find that 

 we are nearing water. A bridge of considerable size 

 is before us spanning a river, one that holds good 



