THE DAILY LIFE OF OXJR FARM. 65 



waters at all (except metaphorically) ; it's rather that 

 the waters are upon us, and, upon the whole, not doing 

 us unmitigated good. The floods are out, and have 

 been so, off and on, since the choleric Welsh hills sent 

 down their surging torrent of ripped-up old ice raiment 

 and superfluous mud broth. In faith, we could have 

 well spared those everlasting mountains their gift of 

 old clothes ; for it's sand mainly, and not a Nile-like 

 deposit of alluvial loam, that they have shipped down 

 to this (the lower) estate. 



And right good reason I have personally to be dis- 

 satisfied with the dressing. For just a week since, in- 

 dulging in a matutinal digestive cheroot, there caught 

 my eye the dark form in the distance of a colt lying- 

 somewhat more heap-like on the hillside than suited 

 my idea of repose. Hailing the gardener, who was 

 busy with the rhododendron bushes close by, I inquired 

 his opinion. " Heigh ! — Hurroo there ! " he shouted — 

 with a power of stentorian lungs that I quite envied 

 — by way of awakening the animal rather than reply- 

 ing to his master. And, sure enough, it raised its head 

 thereat, but painfully and appealingly, it struck me. 

 " Him be only sleeping in the sun — I seed 'em ever so 

 many times so. Him be only a gammoning." 



However, as I am not wont to be quite so easy in my 

 mind as that, I desired his attendance on a visit to the 

 suspected. It was as my fears augured. We found a 

 pet pony, that had carried the blue riband in a com- 

 petition of thirty, all broken out into a sweat, and 

 trembling violently, while ever and anon she cast an 

 anxious imploring glance towards her flank. Colic, 

 methinks, or inflammation. " Him be bad, sir," broke 

 in our estimable melon-shaped servitor ; " well, I'd 



