h tobacco from his leaden jar; and
then, having lighted it, he and his wife would go out of the back door,
through the garden and the orchard, and along by the side of the quiet
river. By their side, as a matter of course, came Tim the Collie (named
after Mrs. Bumpkin's grandfather Timothy), who knew as well as possible
every word that was being said. If Mrs. Bumpkin only asked, "Where is
Betsy?" (that was the head Alderney cow) Tim would bark and fly across to
the meadow where she was; and then, having said to her and to the five
other Alderney cows and four heifers, "Why, here's master and missus
coming round to look at you, why on earth don't you come and see them?"
up the whole herd would come, straggling one after the other, to the
meadow where Mr. and Mrs. Bumpkin were waiting for them; and all would
look over the hedge, as much as to say, "How d'ye do, master, and how
d'ye do, missus; what a nice day, isn't it?" exactly in the same manner
as men and women greet one another as often as they meet. And then there
was the old donkey, Jack, whom Tim would chaff no matter when or where he
saw him. I believe if Tim had got him in church, he would have chaffed
him. It was very amusing to see Jack duck his head and describe a circle
as Tim swept round him, barking with all his might, and yet only laughing
all the while. Sometimes Jack, miscalculating distances--he wasn't very
great at mathematics--and having no eye for situations, would kick out
vigorously with his hind legs, thinking Tim was in close proximity to his
heels; whereas the sagacious and jocular Tim was leaning on his
outstretched fore-feet immediately in front of Jack's head.

Then there was another sight, not the least interesting on these
afternoon rambles: in the far meadow, right under "the lids," as they
were called, lived the famous Bull of Southwood Farm. He was Mrs.
Bumpkin's pet. She had had him from a baby, and used to feed him in his
infant days from a bottle by the kitchen fire. And so docile was he
that, although few strangers would be safe in intruding into his
presence, he would follow Mrs. Bumpkin about, as she said, "just like a
Christian." The merits of this bull were the theme, on all appropriate
occasions, of Mrs. Bumpkin's unqualified praise. If the Vicar's wife
called, as she sometimes did, to see how Mrs. Bumpkin was getting on,
Mrs. Bumpkin's "baby" (that is the bull) was sure to be brought up--I
don't mean by the nurse, but