December 22. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
223 
be cut very early indeed; it will then, if well-made, con¬ 
tain the greatest amount of nutrition; and this is 
I especially necessary, because young Lambs cannot, 
i under any circumstances, be expected to eat more than a 
j limited quantity. It is, therefore, desirable that the 
I Hay should be of the best quality; for not only will 
they be induced to eat the greatest bulk of the material, 
but, at the same time, the largest probable amount of 
nutrition will be conveyed into the system. The Hay 
best calculated for feeding the Ewes is, without doubt, 
the same as has been recommended for the Lambs; 
but it often happens that a sufficiency is not grown to 
feed both with the same sort during the whole season. 
It is usual to grow the Clovers alternately, therefore the 
supply of either sort is limited, and the Broad Clover 
and Rye Grass Hay is commonly resorted to for the 
feeding of Ewes. 
In a former paper upon this subject, it has been re¬ 
commended to feed the Ewes with half-a-pound of Oil¬ 
cake per day each ; it was, however, omitted that they 
should receive half-a-pint of Beans, also, in addition, 
during the last month of their fattening; this will 
render the flesh more firm, and they will sell better in 
the market, inasmuch as the great objection to Ewes 
which have been fattened during the time they suckled 
their Lambs being that they are usually deficient in 
firmness and quality of meat. 
I shall conclude this paper with an observation as to 
tbe great advantage of high-feeding for the Ewes, in 
which the Lamb is also found to participate, owing to 
the extra quality of the milk induced by feeding upon 
highly nutritious materials, verifying the old saying, 
“ A fat Ewe makes a fat Lamb.” 
JosEm Blundell. 
THE UPRIGHT SERVANT. 
By the Authoress of “ My Flowers " 
Are any of my readers natives of Wales? If they are, 
! they will be pleased with a sketch of one of their country¬ 
men, of whom they need not be ashamed, and whose upright 
and downright character may be an example to servants, 
and, perhaps, a useful hint to masters, who always find it so 
difficult to discover the truth when disturbances take place 
among tlieir households. It is not always the smooth¬ 
tongued, or the smooth-tempered, that are right; very often 
' the rough and disagreeable are the really valuable. But as 
j man cannot look into the heart, it is next to impossible for 
i a master to know who is right and who is wrong, unless the 
1 characters are so well understood as to enable him to 
know who is most likely to speak the truth. 
David Rees lived with a widowed mother and a young 
sister, in a little white cottage that opened upon a “ bryn” 
or green, in a southern county of Wales. It was a beautiful 
1 situation, as all Welsh situations are ; and in the distance, a 
picturesque bay, bounded by a rocky shore, sparkled in the 
sun. The little cottage stood close to a very little tricklet of 
water which crossed the edge of the bryn, and tbe great 
' stones that supported the plank for foot passengers were 
all daubed with whitewash, a very common fancy in that 
neighbourhood. If a large stone peeped out of a bank, 
there was sure to be a splash of whitewash upon it, so 
Nanny Rees’ cottage and appurtenances were in the usual 
fashion. Two or three gentlemen’s residences surrounded 
the bryn, and in one of these David began to be a lad about 
the garden and stable. He was Very steady, and when the 
groom went away he stepped peaceably into the place. 
David had a warm Welsh heart, and a hot Welsh temper. 
He gave all his affections to the family he lived with, and 
would have done battle for any one of them; but he always 
looked surly and displeased, do what he would. He loved 
to ride behind his young mistresses, but he always seemed 
as if he hated to do it, there was a sort of scowl on his brow 
which he did not mean ; his temper was hot, but his heart 
was in the right place (humanly speaking), and the event 
proved that his face, and not his feelings, was to blame. 
After some years the family left Wales, and took David 
with them. He became the servant of his young master, 
and if any one had dared to say that that young gentleman 
and his beautiful grey mare were not the best of their kind 
in England, David would have attacked them on the spot. 
Times, however, changed, and poor David was obliged to seek 
another situation. For some years he suffered much. 
Circumstances took place in the family of his new master 
of a painful nature, and David had a great deal to do and 
struggle with; but he was upright and downright, and it 
pleased God to guide him on through all. Then he went 
back into Wales, married, and became coachman to a gentle¬ 
man who lived in the very house where his first master 
lived, close to his native bryn. Here he had another trial 
to go through. The iniquity that was going on in. the 
establishment David could not away with. He saw things, 
and knew things, that almost distracted his honest heart. 
He bad nothing to do with them, but he burned to tell his 
master; and at last he did. He was believed, but his 
master’s approval was all he gained by it, for he had no 
longer a moment’s peace. Not only his own fellow-servants, 
but those of every neighbouring family, rose up against him. 
A party spirit set in among the servants, which ended 
in David’s going away; he could not stand against their 
malice and resentment, he was baited to death. Go where he 
would, he was pointed at and shunned, till his very health 
gave way, and he quitted his master, who was truly grieved 
to part with him. 
After this, Rees took a cottage, and became a market- 
gardener, in a moderate way; but it was uncertain work. 
He had a wife and child, and an aged mother to support, 
and no capital, so that wet seasons, and other losses, tried 
him very much. When sent for by his first master to take 
a coachman’s place in a friend’s establishment, he gladly 
undertook it, although his health was not so strong, or his 
limbs so active as of yore. Here another trial, and a very 
sharp one, came upon him. Perhaps there is no set of 
people more crooked in their different ways, and according 
to their opportunities, than household servants. Of course, 
there are many valuable exceptions in every one’s experience, 
and it seems a hard thing to say; but judging from what 
we hear, rather than from what we see, we may conclude 
that there are few small bodies of persons congregated 
together, where so much evil exists. We know what the 
natural heart of man is, and in a gentleman’s household 
there is so little possibility of watching what is going on, 
that it gives room for unbounded mischief, with scarcely 
any likelihood of discovery. The household of Rees’ master 
was a very regular, and well-ordered one, apparently ; little 
company kept, religious observances attended to, and every 
thing in its place ; but he soon found it was a scene of actual 
depravity and wicked connivance. One of the servants had 
been brought up from a child in the family, and was loved 
and trusted almost like a daughter. She was the worst of 
all; and poor Rees became almost distracted at all lie knew, 
and dared not make known. He gave broad hints, but they 
were disregarded. He had suffered for speaking out in a 
former case, and knew not what to do for the best here. 
Charges brought against a favourite supported by all the 
rest of the household was ruin to himself; so, between indig¬ 
nation at the goings on, fear of consequences, a hot Welsh 
temper, and, perhaps, want of better judgment, he gave 
offence to both parties, and received notice to leave. This 
circumstance gave him freedom of speech; but the servants, 
who could bring no other accusation against him, joined in 
declaring him mad, and so alarmed their master and mistress 
by their wicked devices, that all poor Rees’ assertions were 
received soothingly, as those of a lunatic; and he was got 
rid of quickly and quietly—returning to his cottage almost 
broken-hearted with this second unhappy ending to his 
honest service. The wicked never prosper long. Everything 
