THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 21 



" What a very disagreeable idea, Henry ! I wish you 

 wouldn't." Wouldn't what, my charming sister-in-law 

 didn't say; but having gone to the extent of this 

 rebuke, which, under the circumstances, was undoubt- 

 edly stern, the conversation soon ended, and yet not 

 before, with her usual amiability, thinking she might 

 have hurt my feelings, she promised to do her best to 

 obtain for me the loan of a real live tortoise, which is 

 at walk just now at her gardener's, belonging to a neigh- 

 bouring gentleman's family who are away. " And so 

 good night." (Exeunt all but the black beetles). 



Again, the bright hopeful morning ; though, as I 

 watch out of the window while breakfast is being 

 brought in, there is a mist upon the water below and 

 the distant landscape. Ever and anon a leaf drops 

 dreamily from the oak and ash, while the willow is 

 pensively pendent with full foliage yet. The pheasant 

 crows amidst the bushes on the slope ; the wood -pigeon 

 dips from tree to tree across the avenue, or wings her 

 rapid flight away ; the nut-hatch is busy creeping up 

 the bark of the acacia, and the rooks caw quite cheerily 

 in their settlement. 



I do not know that I ever like the rooks so much as 

 when they come back about this time to their haunts, 

 as though to look up the condition of their lodgings. 

 The sound of their cawing is so social amidst the dark- 

 ness of this November weather. How stupid it is that 

 the farmer will assail them with poisoned grain, as they 

 do undoubtedly even yet, despite the fine ! They must 

 blink their most ordinary intelligence to do so, if they 

 would only watch for a short half-day the inestimable 

 benefit those same grave birds do them, so earnestly 

 stalking up the furrow behind the plough, and devour- 



