JULY. 



117 



Thrush, the Blackbird, and the Nightingale. 

 I almost wish it was the fashion for girls to 

 lend their assistance in haying, as in old times. 



Henry took hold of the fork in good earnest, 

 and worked very diligently, though he w 7 as 

 somewhat disturbed by the bees, who seemed 

 to have settled thickly about the meadows ; 

 and though he had been taught not to hurt any 

 creature, he could not forbear fighting them, 

 especially after he had been severely stung 

 once or twice. 



After having slightly refreshed themselves, 

 Farmer Thrifty, who did not mean to rust out, 

 observed that they must make hay while the 

 sun shone, and leading the way, was cheer- 

 fully followed by his hale and hearty fellows, 

 whose good constitutions had not been poison- 

 ed by rum, and commenced the work of turn- 

 ing and raking. 



The heat now seemed insupportable ; not a 



