e well out of its earthen pots--each
with a hole in the bottom--and discharging it into the trough leading to
the irrigation channels or to the reservoir from which the water may
afterwards be let off in the required direction.

But agriculture is not always so backward and primitive. There are great
landowners and large farmers who use the newest and best agricultural
implements. The Government does what it can to encourage the use of
artificial manures, and there are societies which render important
services to agriculturists and to fruit-growers. Amid such labours live
the quiet country-folk. They have no thought of anything; they have no
special amusements beyond an occasional _festa_ and a dance. They sit
round the village well in the evening, and when not talking scandal,
tell stories about--"Once upon a time there was a poor widow with one or
more daughters," or "There was once a king's son"--often a Moorish
king. The old well-known tales reappear, modified to the Portuguese
character and morality.

The following is a story taken from Braga's excellent book: "There was,
once upon a time, a poor widow that had only one daughter. This girl,
going out to bathe in the river with her companions on St. John's eve,
at the advice of one of her friends, placed her ear-rings on the top of
a stone, lest she should lose them in the water. While she was playing
about in the river an old man passed along, who, seeing the ear-rings,
took them and placed them in a leather bag he was carrying. The poor
child was much grieved at this, and ran after the old man, who consented
to restore her belongings if she would search for them inside his sack.
This the girl did, and forthwith the artful old man closed the mouth of
the bag and carried her off therein. He subsequently told her that she
must help him to gain a living, and that whenever he recited--

'Sing, sack,
Else thou wilt be beaten with a stick!'

she was to sing lustily. Wherever they came he placed his sack on the
ground, and addressed the above formula to it, when the poor girl sang
as loud as she could:

'I am placed in this sack,
Where my life I shall lose,
For love of my ear-rings,
Which I left in the stream.'

The old man obtained much money from the audiences attracted by his
singing leather bag. The authorities of one town, however, became
suspicious, and, examining the sack while its owner was asleep, found
and released the child. The