nd I forthwith bestowed my affections on a beautiful grey
pullet, whose dignified carriage and speckled exterior bespoke her high
lineage. "That's Kitty," said Mrs. C----. "I am so glad you fancy
her; she is one of my nicest young hens. We'll catch her for you in a
moment." I must pause to mention here, that it struck me as being
very odd in New Zealand the way in which _every_ creature has a name,
excepting always the poor sheep. If one sees a cock strutting proudly
outside a shepherd's door; you are sure to hear it is either Nelson or
Wellington; every hen has a pet name, and answers to it; so have the
ducks and geese,--at least, up-country; of course, dogs, horses, cows
and bullocks, each rejoice in the most inflated appellations, but I
don't remember ever hearing ducks and fowls answer to their names in any
other country.

But this is only by the way. I gratefully and gladly accepted the
transfer of the fair Kitty, and only wondered how I was to convey her to
her new home, fifteen miles away. Kitty was soon caught, and carried off
into the house to be packed up for her first ride. Accustomed as I am
to ridiculous things happening to me, still I never felt in so absurd a
position as when, having mounted "Helen," who seemed in a particularly
playful mood after a good feed of oats, Kitty was handed to me neatly
tied up in a pillow-case with her tufted head protruding from a hole
in the seam at the side. Although very anxious to carry her home
immediately, my heart died within me at the prospect of a long gallop on
a skittish mare with a plump Dorking hen tied up in a bag on my lap.

There was no help for it, however, and I tried to put my bravest face on
the matter. The difficulties commenced at the very point of departure,
for it is not easy to say farewell cordially with your hands full of
reins, whip, and poultry. But it proved comparatively easy going whilst
we only cantered over the plains. It was not until the first creek
had been reached, that I really perceived what lay before me. Helen
distrusted the contents of the bag, and kept trying to look round and
see what it contained; and her fears of something uncanny might well
have been confirmed when she took off at her first flat jump. Kitty
screamed, or shrieked, or whatever name best expresses her discordant
and piercing yells. I more than suspect I shrieked too, partly at the
difficulty of keeping both Kitty and Helen in any sort of order, and
partly at my ow