about their styes, squealing the while as though it were supper-time.
The wind whistled blithely round the corners of the goodly cornstacks
to the rear of the barton, and piped shrilly through their eaves; the
monthly roses, still ablow, swung hither and thither in the fresh
blast, strewing the cobblestones with their delicate petals. In all
the gay, busy scene only the figure of the master himself was
motionless, if one might except the old black horse which he appeared
to be contemplating, the angular outlines of whose bony form might be
seen dimly defined in the dusk of its stable.

Towards this animal Farmer Bold now pointed, removing his hand from
his chin for the purpose. "I wur a-lookin' at Blackbird," he said,
"poor wold chap! He was a good beast in his day, but I d' 'low his day
be fair done. Tis the last night what Blackbird 'ull spend in this
'ere stall."

"Why," cried Mrs. Bold quickly, "ye don't mean to say--"

"I mean to say," interrupted her husband, turning to her with a
resolutely final air, "I mean to say as Blackbird's sold."

"Sold!" ejaculated the woman incredulously. "Who'd ever go for to buy
Blackbird?--wi'out it be one o' they rag-and-bone men, or maybe for a
salt cart. Well, Joe," with gathering ire, "I didn't think ye'd go for
to give up the faithful wold fellow after all these years, to be
knocked about and ill-used at the last."

"Nay, and ye needn't think it--ye mid know as I wouldn't do sich a
thing," returned her lord with equal heat. "I've sold en"--he paused,
continuing with some hesitation, as he nodded sideways over his
shoulder, "I've a-sold en up yonder for the kennels."

"What! To be ate up by them there nasty hounds? Joseph!"

"Come now," cried the farmer defiantly, "ye must look at it sensible,
Mary. Poor Blackbird, he be a-come to his end, same as we all must
come to it soon or late. He 've a-been goin' short these two years--ye
could see that for yourself--and now his poor wold back be a-givin'
out, 'tis the most merciful thing to destroy en. They'll turn en out
to-week in the field up along--beautiful grass they have there--and
he'll enjoy hisself a bit, and won't know nothin' about it when they
finish en off."

"I al'ays thought as we'd keep Blackbird so long as he did live,"
murmured Mrs. Bold, half convinced but still lamenting, "seein' as we
did breed en and bring en up ourselves, and he did work so faithful
all his life. Poor wold Jinny! He wur her last colt, an