160 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FAEM. 



beside my pillow. I sprang up, and in a closet behind 

 a chest there was the wretched missing kitten, crawl- 

 ing and shrieking as if mad with pain. It must have 

 been there for some days the housemaid declares, and 

 that without making the least sound of any sort. How 

 to account for the circumstance is beyond me, unless 

 possibly it had been in a trance. Anyhow, so it oc- 

 curred. The nursery puss was delighted to receive 

 her own again from the children, with sundry scold- 

 ings to boot, while the farm cat took ungi'aciously the 

 return of her infant, which our fry decided it was only 

 just to restore. 



Rooklings, tom-tits, sparrows, and such like, they 

 have had in quantities, and destroyed by excess of 

 kindness, too, feeding them by force ever so often in 

 the day. Lastly, they have some blackfaced mountain 

 ewe-lambs within a wired enclosure. This last sort 

 doesn't pay on my side. It's all very well for the 

 young ladies to have a snowy pet, with broad blue 

 ribbon around its neck, nibbling parsley out of their 

 hands, and bleating gratefully at their approach. But. 

 when these said lambs grow to be big sheep, and in 

 their turn have lambs too, then it comes to be no 

 joke, for me at least, the fond feeder of the lot ovine 

 and human, for it just happens that their pet lambs 

 of the year before last have this year lambs of their 

 own, which are now worth, the chicks hear from the 

 bailiff, some fifteen shillings a-piece. For this sum 

 they have deliberately sued me. Now if this goes on 

 it must ultimately be a serious affair. " What about 

 their keep, my pet ? " I appeal in vain. " Oh ! you 

 know, papa, they can't eat much/' &c. &c. But the 

 subject depresses. 



