mes in the Cotswolds, however,
though the practice of using them must soon die out. Great, slow,
lumbering animals they are, but very handsome and delightful beasts to
look upon. A team of brown oxen adds a pleasing feature to the
landscape.

As we come down the steep ascent which leads to our little hamlet, we
often wonder why some of the cottage front doors are painted bright red
and some a lovely deep blue. These different colours add a great deal of
picturesqueness to the cottages; but is it possible that the owners have
painted their doors red and blue for the sake of the charming distant
effect it gives? These people have wonderfully good taste as a rule. The
other day we noticed that some of the dreadful iron sheeting which is
creeping into use in country places had been painted by a farmer a
beautiful rich brown. It gave quite a pretty effect to the barn it
adjoined. Every bit of colour is an improvement in the rather
cold-looking upland scenery of the Cotswolds.

Cray-fishing is a very popular amusement among the villagers. These
fresh-water lobsters abound in the gravelly reaches of the Coln. They
are caught at night in small round nets, which are baited and let down
to the bottom of the pools. The crayfish crawl into the nets to feed,
and are hauled up by the dozen. Two men can take a couple of bucketfuls
of them on any evening in September. Though much esteemed in Paris,
where they fetch a high price as _ecrevisse_, we must confess they are
rather disappointing when served up. The village people, however, are
very fond of them; and Tom Peregrine, the keeper, in his quaint way
describes them as "very good pickings for dessert." As they eat a large
number of very small trout, as well as ova, on the gravel spawning-beds,
crayfish should not be allowed to become too numerous in a trout stream.

It is difficult to understand in what the great attraction of
rook-shooting consists. Up to yesterday I had never shot a rook in my
life. The accuracy with which some people can kill rooks with a rifle is
very remarkable. I have seen my brother knock down five or six dozen
without missing more than one or two birds the whole time. One would be
thankful to die such an instantaneous death as these young rooks. They
seem to drop to the shot without a flutter; down they come, as straight
as a big stone dropped from a high wall. Like a lump of lead they fall
into the nettles. They hardly ever move again. It is difficult work