rds. Ah!
you think much of Exmoor, but you have never seen Norway, where your
highest hills would be lost among our mountains, and your broadest
streams a trickle beside our rivers. We do not duck and dive there, my
lady Hind; we fly high and straight, and chirp for joy in our flight,
but in this grey England we have not the heart to chirp." And rising
with a _flip flap_ of her wings she flew silently and sadly away.

At length one day the Hind said: "Son, it is time for you to see some
more of your relations." So they set out together; and as they went
they passed by all the places which the Calf had known so well when he
was but a few weeks old. But they saw no deer, and when they looked
about for the Greyhen they could not see her either; nor would they
have heard anything of them, if the Hind had not bethought her of
going to see old Bunny. And they found her as usual sitting in front
of her bury, looking quite happy and comfortable, with her head a
little on one side.

"Why, my lady, you'm quite a stranger," she said when they greeted
her. "Lady Yeld and Lady Ruddy was axing for 'ee but two days agone,
and says they, 'Tell her we'm going to Dunkery'; and that's where
you'm going, I reckon, my lady. And Lady Ruddy's Calf is grown
wonderful, and a sweet, pretty little thing she is, but not so pretty
as yours, my lady. Look to mun, now, in his little brown coat, a
proper little buty. 'Tis just what I was saying to the old
Greyhen--let's see, what day was it?--well, I don't rightly mind the
day, but says I, 'Neighbour, her ladyship's little son--'"

"But where is the Greyhen gone, Bunny?" said the Hind.

"Well, I don't rightly know, my lady," answered Bunny. "She comed to
me a good whiles back, and she saith, 'Neighbour, the men's been here
shooting again, and I shall go.' But it was a good whiles back; I
think 'twas when I was rearing my fourth family,--for I have had two
more families since I seed your ladyship last, aye, and fine ones too.
And I've got a new mate, my lady. You mind my Bucky, my lady, he that
was always lying out--well, he went out one day and he never comed
home again, and I reckon the weasels catched mun. He was a good mate
was the old Bucky, but he was the half of a fule--that I should say
so--wouldn't never mind what I told mun. And what was I to do, my
lady? So I tooked another mate. 'Twas not a long courting, for he
comes to me, and, saith he--"

"But where did you say that the Greyhen wa