230 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 



June, 1869. 



What a pleasant thing is success ! I suppose the 

 feeling is pretty much the same under all circumstances. 

 Probably the breeder, who has just sold a calf for 500 

 guineas, or the Prime Minister, who has just carried a 

 pet bill through the House in its entirety, feels no more 

 elated than I did a few moments since, as I sat down to 

 an eleven o'clock breakfast — toast, tea, eggs, cold boiled 

 beef, and a glass of ale, after watching for some inte- 

 rested hours the disestablishment of weedliogs, through 

 the instrumentality of Garrett's most excellent horse- 

 hoe. 



Faith ! don't it cut out right well ; and with not the 

 less gusto, apparently, when it swerves so as to catch a 

 good sweep of a wheat-row. It is a new implement 

 hereabouts, and the men were sadly prejudiced against 

 it. At first there were many difficulties in its manage- 

 ment ; but at last, by dint of perseverance (that thief of 

 time), we managed to get on pretty well. And all I 

 wish now is to be able to take a short jump forward, and 

 see the effect of this treatment upon the crop ; only I 

 would stipulate for returning to the present point of 

 time again ; the days are so delicious now, with sweet 

 songs of birds on every side, and the fragrant buds and 

 flowers daily breaking. 



The bad potatoes I planted last year are beginning to 

 appear above the surface. They are very strong, my 

 man reports. I am desirous of seeing what gaps there 

 are, and I shall not be disappointed if they are many, 

 because I did not manage to do that which I hold to be 

 only fair by the experiment. Instead of liaving a piece 

 ploughed ready into which just to transport the ques- 



