But Luke's favourite manoeuvre was to take out his
snuff-box, tap it, and offer it to the person addressing him. This he
would do to a farmer, even though it were the largest tenant of all. For
this snuff-box was a present from the lady at the great house, who took
an interest in poor old Luke's infirmities, and gave him the snuff-box,
a really good piece of workmanship, well filled with the finest snuff,
to console his wretchedness.

Of this box Luke was as proud as if it had been the insignia of the
Legion of Honour, and never lost an opportunity of showing it to every
one of standing. When the village heard of this kindly present it ran
over in its mind all that it knew about the stile, and the sacks, and
the disused oven. Then the village very quietly shrugged its shoulders,
and though it knew not the word irony, well understood what that term
conveys.

At the foot of the hill on which the Upper Woods were situate there
extended a level tract of meadows with some cornfields. Through these
there flowed a large slow brook, often flooded in winter by the water
rushing down from the higher lands. It was pleasant in the early year to
walk now and then along the footpath that followed the brook, noting the
gradual changes in the hedges.

When the first swallow of the spring wheels over the watery places the
dry sedges of last year still stand as they grew. They are supported by
the bushes beside the meadow ditch where it widens to join the brook,
and the water it brings down from the furrows scarcely moves through the
belt of willow lining the larger stream. As the soft west wind runs
along the hedge it draws a sigh from the dead dry stalks and leaves that
will no more feel the rising sap.

By the wet furrows the ground has still a brownish tint, for there the
floods lingered and discoloured the grass. Near the ditch pointed flags
are springing up, and the thick stems of the marsh marigold. From
bunches of dark green leaves slender stalks arise and bear the golden
petals of the marsh buttercups, the lesser celandine. If the wind blows
cold and rainy they will close, and open again to the sunshine.

At the outside of the withies, where the earth is drier, stand tall
horse-chestnut trees, aspen, and beech. The leaflets of the
horse-chestnut are already opening; but on the ground, half-hidden under
beech leaves not yet decayed, and sycamore leaves reduced to imperfect
grey skeletons, there lies a chestnut shell. It is s