e strength of their own wings, and the mysterious vital power
with which God has endowed them? How do they recognise the familiar
haunts of a year ago? How do they know that the woods in these
northern regions are ready for habitation?

I give it up; but I love to see them approach from the distance like a
swiftly-moving cloud, and disappear into the haze again after circling
over the trees which surround the Hall; and I love to walk through the
meadows and see how my feathered brothers and sisters are making the
most of the sunshine and the softened soil.

The blackbird is in full song now, and it darts past, me with its
chirpy "tuck-tuck-tuck"; whilst the lark soars upwards into the azure
with quivering song, full-throated, inimitable.

The sagacious rooks have been busy for days past with household cares,
and have gone about thieving (with a clear conscience, I trust) for
strictly domestic purposes; and the thrushes are just as industrious in
their search for dainties hidden in Mother Earth.

East winds prevail, and rheumatism holds some of my neighbours in
prison and in torment, but to me they bring exhilaration, a voracious
appetite, and the joy of life. Mother Hubbard looks upon me with
loving envy and sighs for the days that are beyond recall.

Poor Mother Hubbard! The hard winter has tried her severely, but she
never complains and is always sweet and cheerful, and promises herself
and me that she will be all right when summer comes. I hope so, for
she has grown inexpressibly dear to her adopted daughter whom she does
her level best to spoil, and if we were parted now we should miss each
other sorely.

I have discovered that she is an excellent chaperon, and enjoys the
role beyond my power of description. What a remarkable little woman
she is! She knows that I keep a record of my experiences, and has got
it into her head that I am writing a book, and she is therefore always
on the look-out for the appearance of the hero. She has given me to
understand that if she can only be in at the _denouement_, when the
hero leads the blushing bride to the altar amid the ill-restrained
murmur of admiration from the crowd, she will be then ready to depart
in peace. Needless to say, it is _I_ who am to be the blushing bride!
It is no doubt a very pleasing fancy, but I am afraid the dear old lady
will have to find contentment in an abstraction.

What amuses me most is her well-founded misgiving as to my ability t