THE DAILY LIFE OF OIJR FARM. 67 



I did not before know the risk of leaving long grass 

 upon the fields that the waters invade. It seems that 

 it is, however, no unfrequent cause of death in this 

 district, especially in the case of sheep and kine. 



But there's no use crying for shed milk — we must 

 make the money up somehow — by cutting off the beer, 

 or the French plums, or the bonnets, or somehow. To 

 change the sad subject, let me remark, as an old tutor, 

 that children cannot be taught the modern languages 

 too soon. French, Italian, and German, they should 

 learn almost from infancy, if they are to learn them 

 at all, when the elastic organs of speech can modu- 

 late unerringly each syllable, and the ear is quick 

 as accurate in catching sound. But, unfortunately, 

 the fry don't appreciate these advantages, and, more- 

 over, are difficult for foreio^ners to manao^e. So, as 

 a last resource parentally, we offer a prize for him or 

 her who shall earliest learn to speak the most French. 

 Even as we write, behold a result. A six-year-old 

 Pickle, who has been allowed by request to spend an 

 hour in pappy's study, and has been reclining upon the 

 sofa, apparently in a state of brew, for some time — an 

 indication, we trust, of future authorship — breaks out 

 at last in a tone of weariness that is intended for our 

 ear, while he would affect that it was not either : "Ah! 

 cher moi !" — the obvious translation of which is, "Oh! 

 dear me ! " and the only parallel to which we know is 

 the Frenchman's rendering of the Shakespearian "So 

 woe-begone" — ''Si triste allez-vous en." But there is 

 another anxious youth just come up to report progress — 

 the lad that has the charge of our shorthorns and sheep. 

 He is " consternated " by the daylight vision of a fine 

 fox seen twice yesterday crossing a field, where our 



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