ON THE MOORS. 151 



gillies were ignorant of their business," and 

 generally evaded ray little effort in arithmetic. 

 Nor is this all. Five days after our arrival at 

 home, my husband " took a Manor." I know 

 what that means : — That the grain is still 

 standing; that the birds won't come out to be 

 shot; that the turnips are too thick to wade 

 through ; that the " red-legs " (whatever they 

 may be) have driven all the Partridge from 

 the ground. . . . 



To-day they have gone " Covert-shooting." 

 Well, I like the plump breast of a Pheasant, 

 and I hope we may have some. But I know. 

 " The trees were dripping ; " " the leaves are 

 still on ; " " the birds were wild." 



There ! I'm a poor deluded thing ; and this 

 when I know that the hand-reared Pheasants 

 get fast among their legs. 



