this an ancient orchard with a grassy floor, where lingered a few old
apple-trees, under which the recumbent cows, chewing and placid, dozed
like stout old ladies over their knitting.

Nearest the fence was an aged, gnarled and riven tree, foolishly decked
in blossoms, like some faded, wrinkled dame, fatuously reluctant to leave
off girlish finery. Under its frivolous branches on the grassy sward would
be the place for his first night's halt--for the magic wood just this side
of the sun was now seen to be farther off than he had once supposed. So he
spread his carpet, arranged the contents of his box neatly, and ate half
his food-supply, for one's strength must be kept up in these affairs. As
he ate he looked back toward the big house--now left forever--and toward
the village beyond. The spires of the three churches were all pointing
sternly upward, as if they would mutely direct him aright, but in their
shelter one must submit to the prosaic trammels of decency. It was not to
be thought of.

He longed for morning to come, so that he might be up and on. He lay down
on his mat to be ready for sleep, and watched a big bird far above,
cutting lazy graceful figures in the air, like a fancy skater. Then, on a
bough above him, a little dusty-looking bird tried to sing, but it sounded
only like a very small door creaking on tiny rusted hinges. A fat,
gluttonous robin that had been hopping about to peer at him, chirped far
more cheerfully as it flew away.

Just at this point he suffered a real adventure. Eight cows sauntered up
interestedly and chewed their cuds at him in unison, standing
contemplative, calculating, determined. It is a fact in natural history
not widely enough recognised that the domestic cow is the most ferocious
appearing of all known beasts--a thing to be proved by any who will