186 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 



she came to hatch a brood so diverse to what she 

 expected. Anyhow, I am puzzled by her demeanour, 

 which overlays a great mine of philosophical thought, 

 and the children puzzle me even further by their 

 inquiries. 



But my sands are out, and the breakfast bell rings. 

 Au revoir. 



December, 1868. 



How time does gallop ! One cannot get through the 

 half of what one wants and feels one ought to do. I 

 find myself always at the last moment in arrears. 



Well, and what have we been doing lately upon this 

 farm? One of the latest events is my having been 

 fortunate enough to win the prize for the best crop of 

 mangold-wurzel within a considerable radius. The 

 crop was so cheaply grown (in a previous article I gave 

 particulars of the way in which I treated our light soil) 

 that I feel doubly proud. Any one, with a fair purse 

 and good eyes, may buy stock for competition, although 

 it does not follow that he will produce from those pur- 

 chased elements animals equal to the parents ; but I 

 feel — too triumphantly, you will say, perhaps — that to 

 have grown the best piece of mangold-wurzel in the 

 district during this disastrously-hot year with only 

 one ploughing, and having sown about the latest of all 

 around me, is really a feat over which one may fairly 

 smoke a comfortable reflective pipe. 



We have had the " Long Firm " tapping at our door 

 lately pretty often. The last dodge they adopted was 

 forwarding a circular of prices which they were ready 

 to give for apples and potatoes "in any quantity" to 

 the various local postmasters, to whom they offered a 



