HINDRANCES AND HELPS. 253 



ing. He has a sharp appetite for the beef and the 

 greens, but not much, at the nooning, for Burns or 

 Bishop Butler. The return to the field haunts him ; 

 but the work is only half done. Rubbing his puffy 

 hands with a raw onion (by the advice of Pat), he 

 enters bravely upon a new bout of the ploughing. 

 The sun is even more searching than in the morning ; 

 the mosquitoes have come in flocks ; the bunion, ag- 

 gravated by the morning's pebble, angers him sorely, 

 and destroys all his confidence in the commentators 

 upon Burns. 



At night, more draggled and wilted than at 

 noon, he turns out his team, and if he means system- 

 atic farm-work, will give the horses a thorough rub- 

 bing-down ; afterward, if he cherish cleanly preju- 

 dices, the fine young fellow will have need for a 

 rubbing-down of himself. This refreshes, and gives 

 courage for the milking which, with those puffy- 

 fingers, is no way amusing. Again the appetite is good 

 even for a cut of salt-beef, and dish of cold greens. 

 Thereupon Pat, the Irish lad, sits upon the doorstep 

 and ruminates, with a short, black pipe in his mouth. 

 Our draggled young friend aims at something better ; 

 it is wearily done ; but at least the show shall be 

 made. The candle is lighted, and a book pulled down 

 possibly Prof. Johnson on Peats ; the millers dart 

 into the flame : peats, and hydrates, and oxides, and 



