NO MAN'S LAND. 209 



artists, and showing their teeth in a most unpleasant 

 fashion. 



" Hi, master ! Call off these dogs, please," shouted 

 one of the two, catching sight of a man in the rick- 

 yard. 



The farmer sauntered down into the garden very 

 deliberately, leaned with folded arms on the wall, and 

 said, " I don't know as I shall call 'em off. Who be 

 ye, an' who axed you to come this 'ere road ? I don't 

 want a lot of folks as I know naunt about looterin' 

 round, an' pokin' their noses where they ain't wanted. 

 Afore I calls them 'ere dogs in, I wants to know who 

 ye be. Ye kin keep your tempers ; them 'ere dogs 

 hasn't bit ye yet. They be on my own ground ; so 

 be ye." 



" We are artists," was the reply, " and we wish to 



paint your fine old farmhouse. We came from 



for that purpose." 



"Then ye've come on a fool's journey. I wun't hev 

 it painted. What do 'ee mean by talkin' o' paintin' 

 on it?" 



"Make a picture of it, we mean. You do not 

 understand us." 



" I knows naunt about picturs. You jest clear out 

 o 



