mewhat
dark in colour, owing to the most nutritious parts of the grain being
retained in the flour, but it was deliciously sweet and kept fresh for
the whole week. I only wish everyone could enjoy the same sort; the
modern bread is poor stuff by comparison, and its lack of nutritive
value is undoubtedly the cause of much of the poor physique of our
rural and urban population at the present time.

I had a very human dog, Viper, partly fox-terrier; though not very
"well bred," his manners were unexceptionable and his cleverness
extraordinary. One summer afternoon Mrs. Bell was greatly surprised by
Viper coming to her house much distressed and trying to tell her the
reason; he was not to be put off or comforted, and, seizing her
skirts, he dragged her to the door and outside. She guessed at once
that her two boys were in some danger, and she followed the dog. He
kept turning round to make sure that she was close behind, and led her
down a lane, for perhaps 300 yards, to a gate leading into a 12-acre
pasture. They pursued the footpath across the field, through another
gate and over the bridge which spanned the brook, into a meadow
beyond. There she found the children in fear of their lives from the
antics of two mischievous colts which were capering round them with
many snorts and much upturning of heels. It was really only play, but
the boys were alarmed, and Viper, who had accompanied them, had
evidently concluded that they were in danger.

Before the days of the safety bicycle an excellent tricycle, called
the "omnicycle," was put on the market; and the villagers were greatly
excited over one I purchased, of course only for road work, expecting
me to use it on my farming rounds; and Mrs. Bell was heard to say, "I
knows I shall laugh when I sees the master a-coming round the farm on
that thing."

Bell always spoke of her as "my 'ooman," and, referring to the
depletion of their exchequer on her returns from marketing in Evesham,
often said, "I don't care who robs my 'ooman this side of the elm"--a
notable tree about halfway between the town and the village--knowing
that she would then have very little change left.

CHAPTER III.

THE HOP FOREMAN AND THE HOP DRIER.

"Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,

* * * * *

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke."
--GRAY'S _Elegy_.

Jarge was one of the mo