THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 3a 



manure") upon tlie lawn to continue. Their normal 

 enemy the throstle already begins to hop, listening, 

 along the sward, until his quick ear informs him of 

 their immediate vicinity; when down he drives his 

 beak, and, with many an impatient shake, draws 

 out, writhing, a prey, rich as marrow, for his enjoy- 

 ment in the bush to which he flies. But we have a 

 more wholesale mode of ensnaring them than that, 

 as we have a more wholesale customer for their con- 

 sumption in the salmon-pool there below. Our plan is 

 to water their haunts with a strong solution of quick- 

 lime,- when they are up, like lamplighters, on the 

 surface at once ; and you can sweep a heap together, 

 to take down to the river, where you will see the 

 dark form of that sovereign fish cleave the water, as 

 lightning, to the enjoyment of his accustomed meal. 

 Pounding the surface of the ground with the flat of a 

 spade will bring them out : — whether they are con- 

 sternated or not, and imagine an earthquake is going 

 on, I don't know ; or whether they find their dining- 

 room walls come toppling around their ears, and so 

 hurry to escape by the lobby. 



" Pappy like shorthorns ? " was an inquiry jerked out 

 in a high key, as he hung his head on one side to look 

 up, by a little one whom I gratified this morning by 

 allowing him to hold my hand, and canter along at 

 my side as an imaginary horse to the farm. ''Of 

 course I do, darling, or I should not keep them." " So 

 does me : me don't like them 'ed cows at all with 

 white faces, nor Miss Eglantine " (that's our governess) 

 "don't neither. Her telled us so in school-'oom this 

 morning. Her likes shorthorns best, 'specially 'omans" 

 (romans, that is, I presume, roans). " Those red ones 



