have Two-forty?[E] I want to go down to the farm,
to see my cattle fed!"

Scarce had leave been obtained, before a cry was heard in another
quarter. "Hallo, Jemmy! what's the matter now? Wont Shelty go?"

The youth so addressed was about six, and sitting in a little low
four-wheeled carriage, whacking away at a Shetland-looking pony, with a
coat, every hair of which was long enough for a horse's tail. The
difficulty was soon discovered, for it was an old trick of Shelty to
lift one leg outside the shaft, and strike for wages, if he wasn't
pleased.

"Get out, Jemmy, I'll set him right;" and accordingly, Shelty's leg
was lifted inside, and Paterfamilias commenced lunging him round and
round before the door. After a few circles he said, "Now then, Jemmy,
get in again; he's all right now."

The infant Jehu mounts, and of course commences pitching into Shelty,
alike vigorously and harmlessly; off they go at score."

"Where are you going, Jemmy?"

"What--say--father?" No words are lost.

"Where are you going, Jemmy?"

"Going to get some turnips for my pigs;" and Jemmy disappeared in a bend
of the road.

On inquiry, I found Jemmy used often to go miles from home in this way,
and was as well known in the neighbourhood as his father.

On another occasion, I remember seeing three lads, the oldest about
twelve, starting off in a four-wheeled cart, armed with an old gun.

"Where are you going, there?"

"To shoot pigeons."

"What's that sticking out of your pocket?"

"A loaded pistol;" and off they went at full swing.

Thinks I to myself, if those lads don't break their necks, or blow their
brains out, they will learn to take care of themselves; and I began to
reflect whether this was the way they were taught to love independence.

Now for a sketch of the other sex. Two horses come to the door
side-saddled. Out rush, and on jump, two girls under twelve. Young Ten,
upon his Two-forty, is the chaperon. "Take care!" says an anxious
parent. "Oh, I'm not afraid, mother;" and away they go, galloping about
the park as if they were Persians. My mind turned involuntarily
homewards, and I drew a picture from life. A faithful nurse stands at
the door; a young lady about twelve is mounting; a groom is on another
horse, with a leading-rein strong enough to hold a line-of-battle ship
in a gale of wind. The old nurse takes as long packing the young lady as
if she were about to make a tour of the globe; sundry whispers are going