" CHOPIN " IN THE DUSK. 221 



" There, you might as well give up. I'll 

 take the rod for you ; and here, you take my 



arm." 



" I think you had better unscrew the rod 

 first." 



We reach the lawn garden. The lamp has 

 only been just brought into the drawing-room, 

 and Kate Dalrymple's Pa is still drowsing peace- 

 fully on a couch. 



The nightingale has hushed, the crake has 

 ceased, the atmosphere is quite sultry and 

 heavy-laden with the odour of flowers. The 

 little river purrs knowingly to itself. 



Terru-terru-r-r-r gug-gug-gug t-r-r-r-r. 



Craik, Craik ! 



The hood is thrown back, and the pert 

 Chopinese allows her head to nestle where it is 

 allowed to nestle very nestlingly. 



Teru-teru-gugg-gugg-terru-terru-teru. 



(Confound that bird, why did he stop just 

 as if to listen to well, he couldn't hear it, that's 

 a comfort ! But that wizard in the field ever 

 so far off, how he shouts craik, craik, with a 

 hoarse chuckle, as if ) 



"It is a curious fact, sir," -said I to Mr. 



