adows coming forth. And here comes our
favourite robin, who has lived in the oven so long, and sang us a song
every morning. I must see what he thinks of it!'

'You will do nothing of the sort,' I answered very shortly, being only
too glad of a cause for having her in my arms again. So I caught her up,
and carried her in; and she looked and smiled so sweetly at me instead
of pouting (as I had feared) that I found myself unable to go very fast
along the passage. And I set her there in her favourite place, by the
sweet-scented wood-fire; and she paid me porterage without my even
asking her; and for all the beauty of the rain, I was fain to stay with
her; until our Annie came to say that my advice was wanted.

Now my advice was never much, as everybody knew quite well; but that was
the way they always put it, when they wanted me to work for them. And in
truth it was time for me to work; not for others, but myself, and (as I
always thought) for Lorna. For the rain was now coming down in earnest;
and the top of the snow being frozen at last, and glazed as hard as a
china cup, by means of the sun and frost afterwards, all the rain ran
right away from the steep inclines, and all the outlets being blocked
with ice set up like tables, it threatened to flood everything. Already
it was ponding up, like a tide advancing at the threshold of the door
from which we had watched the duck-birds; both because great piles of
snow trended in that direction, in spite of all our scraping, and also
that the gulley hole, where the water of the shoot went out (I mean when
it was water) now was choked with lumps of ice, as big as a man's body.
For the 'shoot,' as we called our little runnel of everlasting water,
never known to freeze before, and always ready for any man either to
wash his hands, or drink, where it spouted from a trough of bark, set
among white flint-stones; this at last had given in, and its music
ceased to lull us, as we lay in bed.

It was not long before I managed to drain off this threatening flood,
by opening the old sluice-hole; but I had much harder work to keep the
stables, and the cow-house, and the other sheds, from flooding. For we
have a sapient practice (and I never saw the contrary round about our
parts, I mean), of keeping all rooms underground, so that you step down
to them. We say that thus we keep them warmer, both for cattle and for
men, in the time of winter, and cooler in the summer-time. This I will
not co