was bent
to the ten-acre copse (part of the farm which she ruled so long),
she stopped me to tell a dismal story of two sheep-stealers who,
sixty years ago, were found hidden in that copse, and only taken
after great difficulty and resistance, and the maiming of a
peace-officer.--'Pray don't go there, Miss! For mercy's sake don't
be so venturesome! Think if they should kill you!' were the last
words of Mrs. Sally.

Many thanks for her care and kindness! But, without being at all
foolhardy in general, I have no great fear of the sheep-stealers of
sixty years ago. Even if they escaped hanging for that exploit, I
should greatly doubt their being in case to attempt another. So on
we go: down the short shady lane, and out on the pretty retired
green, shut in by fields and hedgerows, which we must cross to reach
the copse. How lively this green nook is to-day, half covered with
cows, and horses, and sheep! And how glad these frolicsome
greyhounds are to exchange the hard gravel of the high road for this
pleasant short turf, which seems made for their gambols! How
beautifully they are at play, chasing each other round and round in
lessening circles, darting off at all kinds of angles, crossing and
recrossing May, and trying to win her sedateness into a game at
romps, turning round on each other with gay defiance, pursuing the
cows and the colts, leaping up as if to catch the crows in their
flight;--all in their harmless and innocent--'Ah, wretches!
villains! rascals! four-footed mischiefs! canine plagues! Saladin!
Brindle!'--They are after the sheep--'Saladin, I say!'--They have
actually singled out that pretty spotted lamb--'Brutes, if I catch
you! Saladin! Brindle!' We shall be taken up for sheep-stealing
presently ourselves. They have chased the poor little lamb into a