12 



CHRONICLES OF A CLAY FARM. 



legs, that had measured the altitude of your down- 

 fall, and caught you all, if not upon one, upon two 

 cross hairs ! 



Old Fish or a New Farm? Snipes or Swede- 

 turnips? Which was it to be? There stood but 

 this question between the will and the way to let 

 the Dry Land appear. And who knows what 

 Saurian monstrosities of a primeval age might be 

 brought into daylight when this stagnation of waters 

 was let loose, which had dammed up the moisture of 

 so many broad acres from time immemorial ? since, 

 little raised above the high-water mark of this pool, 

 lay the subsoil of the whole farm beyond and around 

 it; and the lowest point of this meadow was the 

 lowest point of all. 



'Has it ever been tried with a Spirit-level?' 



