20 GEORGE EMPLOYED AS A HERD-BOY. CHAP. II. 



reply. The bonnet was forthwith bought, and the two 

 returned to Dewley in triumph. 



George's first regular employment was of a very 

 humble sort. A widow, named Grace Ainslie, then 

 occupied the neighbouring farmhouse of Dewley. She 

 kept a number of cows, and had the privilege of grazing 

 them along the waggon-road. She needed a boy to 

 herd the cows, to keep them out of the way of the 

 waggons, and prevent their straying or trespassing on 

 the neighbours' " liberties ;" the boy's duty was also to 

 bar the gates at night after all the waggons had passed. 

 George petitioned for this post, and, to his great joy, he 

 was appointed, at the wage of twopence a day. 



It was light employment, and he had plenty of spare 

 time on his hands, which he spent in birdnesting, making 

 whistles out of reeds and scrannel straws, and erecting 

 Lilliputian mills in the little water-streams that ran into 

 the Dewley bog. But his favourite amusement at this 

 early age was erecting clay engines in conjunction with 

 his chosen playmate, Bill Thirlwall. The place is still 

 pointed out, "just aboon the cut-end," as the people of 

 the hamlet describe it, where the future engineers made 

 their first essays in modelling. The boys found the clay 

 for their engines in the adjoining bog, and the hemlocks 

 which grew about supplied them with imaginary steam- 

 pipes. They even proceeded to make a miniature 

 winding machine in connexion with their engine, and 

 the apparatus was erected upon a bench in front of the 

 Thirlwalls' cottage. Their corves were made out of 

 hollowed corks; their ropes were supplied by twine; 

 and a few bits of wood gleaned from the refuse of the 

 carpenters' shop completed their materials. With this 

 apparatus the boys made a show of sending the corves 

 down the pit and drawing them up again, much to the 

 marvel of the pitmen. But some mischievous person 

 about the place seized the opportunity early one morning 

 of smashing the fragile machinery, greatly to the sorrow 



