s it were."

[Illustration: "'A HIND-QUARTER OF LAMB GAMBOLLING
ABOUT ITS NATIVE HEATH'"]

"No," returned the Doctor; "and it is a good thing there isn't. There is
enough sickness in the world without bringing any of your _rus_ ideas
_in urbe_. I've lived in the country, sir, and I assure you it is not
what it is written up to be. Country life is misery, melancholy, and
malaria."

"You must have struck a profitable section, Doctor," returned the Idiot,
taking possession of three steaming buckwheat cakes to the dismay of Mr.
Whitechoker, who was about to reach out for them himself. "And I should
have supposed that your good business sense would have restrained you
from leaving."

"Then the countryman is poor--always poor," continued the Doctor,
ignoring the Idiot's sarcastic comments.

"Ah! that accounts for it," observed the Idiot. "I see why you did not
stay; for what shall it profit a man to save a patient if practice, like
virtue, is to be its own reward?"

"Your suggestion, sir," retorted the Doctor, "betrays an unhealthy frame
of mind."

"That's all right, Doctor," returned the Idiot; "but please do not
diagnose the case any further. I can't afford an expert opinion as to my
mental condition. But to return to our subject: you two gentlemen appear
to have had unhappy experiences in country life--quite different from
those of a friend of mine who owns a farm. He doesn't have to run for
trains; he is independent of plumbers, because the only pipes in his
house are for smoking purposes. The farm produces corn enough to keep
his family supplied all the year round and to sell a balance at a
profit. Oats and wheat are harvested to an extent which keeps the cattle
and declares dividends besides. He never suffers from the cold or heat.
He is never afraid of losing his house or barns by fire, because the
whole fire department of the neighboring village is, to a man, in love
with the house-keeper's daughter, and is always on hand in force. The
chickens are the envy and pride of the county, and there are so many of
them that they have to take turns in going to roost. The pigs are the
most intelligent of their kind, and are so happy they never grunt. In
fact, everything is lovely and cheap, the only thing that hangs high
being the goose."

[Illustration: "'THE GLADSOME CLICK OF THE LAWN-MOWER'"]

"Quite an ideal, no doubt," put in the School-master, scornfully. "I
suppose his is one of those model farms with ste