cher! the broth is in the bowls."

Out on the marsh the reeds beat in the wind. Every grass-fibre twisted
and swung; the matted tussocks, drooping over stagnant pools near which
the snipe, with ruffled feathers, probed the soil in search of food,
were shaken and disentangled, so that the bleached blades of last year's
growth fell apart, and exposed the fresh young sprouts rising from the
bed of winter's death. Over the wide waste the March wind drove
furiously, with blessing in the guise of chastisement, while, far above,
the grey-blue clouds whirled fast across a steely sky, till the ashen
moon gazed coldly on the waning day, as one by one the stars flashed
overhead, the clouds rolled down into the pink and silver west, and the
song of the wind became only a murmur in the leafless willows by the
brook.

With the advent of March, a great change passed over the wild life of
the uplands. The jack-hares threw aside their timidity, and wandered,
reckless of danger, over the marsh, across the stubbles, and through the
woods. Even in broad daylight, they frisked and quarrelled, in courtship
and rivalry.

The leveret was now full-grown, and Nature's mothering instincts were
strong within her. One evening, as she louped along her accustomed trail
towards the turnip-field, she discovered a suitor following in her wake.
Half in misgiving, half in wantonness, she turned aside and hid in the
ditch. Presently she felt a soft touch on her neck: the jack-hare was
pushing his way through the undergrowth. For a moment she stopped to
admire him as the moonlight gleamed on a white star in the centre of his
forehead. Then away she jumped, dodging round the bushes and hither and
thither among the grassy tangles, while her admirer followed, frisking
and leaping in sportive gaiety. Another jack-hare now came along the
hedgerow. In utter mischief, Puss called "leek, leek, leek," as if
pretending to be in distress and in need of help. "Leek, leek," came the
low response, as, quickening his pace, the second hare sprang into the
fern. But his audacity was not to go unchallenged. The first suitor
immediately showed himself, and, making a great pretence of reckless
bravery, prepared to give the second a warm reception. The doe-leveret,
apparently indifferent, but nevertheless keenly interested in the
combat, crouched on a little knoll by the path, while the jack-hares,
sitting on their haunches, boxed and scratched, and rolled over each
other in