114 CHRONICLES OF A CLAY FARM. 



sneeze, or whatever it was that ailed or choked him, 

 passed away ; and when the address was over that 

 had been charming so long and wisely, he looked 

 slowly up, like a person whose thoughts had been 

 wandering far away, and must be recalled, like a 

 lot of stray heifers, before he could put the 

 question 



' Have you farmed largely, Mr. ? ' 



* No, Sir ; not exactly at least not myself 

 yet ; but I've seen a deal of hagriculture ; that 

 is, I've been over some of the most celebrated agri- 

 cultural establishments, that of Mr. Speedwell in 

 Netherlandshire the Rev. Mr. Forcechalk's Farm 

 on the Highdowns : I've been over Lord Burytile's 

 Drainage-works in North Dampshire, with his 

 Lordship's steward; and I am familiar with Mr. 

 M'Scuffler's great concern in Inthemess-shire, 

 N.B. I know Mr. M'Scuffler very well. By 

 the way, I presume, Sir, you allow a tenant to take 

 hout ? ' 



* I beg your pardon ? '- 



* You would allow me, I say, to take out a I'm 

 not much of a sportsman myself, but if a friend 

 should come ' 



* A certificate oh ! I understand : You've 



