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fortable if Edward was away. I am always in a fidget about him. I wish the new King, who is now in France, would raise an army, and come over. It is better that Edward should be fighting in the field, than remain here and risk being shot as a deer-stealer, or put in prison. The farm is sufficient for us all; and when I have taken in more ground, it will be more than sufficient, even if I do not kill the wild cattle. I am fit for the farm, but Edward is not. He is thrown away, living in this obscurity, and he feels it. He will always be in hot water some way or another, that is certain. What a narrow escape he has had with that scoundrel, and yet how little he cares for it! He was intended for a soldier, that is evident; and, if ever he is one, he will be in his element, and distinguish himself, if it pleases God to spare his life. I'll persuade him to stay at home a little while to help me to enclose the other piece of ground; and, after that is done, I'll dig a saw-pit, and see if I can coax Pablo to saw with me. I must go to Lymington and buy a saw. If I once could get the trees sawed up into planks, what a quantity of things I could make, and how I could improve the place!"

Thus thought Humphrey, as he went along; he was all for the farm and improvements, and was always calculating when he should have another calf, or a fresh litter of pigs. His first idea was that he would make Pablo work hard, but the advice he had received from Oswald was not forgotten; and he now was thinking how he should coax Pablo into standing below in the saw-pit, which was not only hard work, but disagreeable from the sawdust falling into the eyes. Humphrey's cogitations were interrupted by a halloo, and turning round in the direction of the voice, he perceived Edward and turned the cart to join him.

"You're just come in time, Humphrey, I have some provision for Alice's larder. I took my gun and came out on the path which I knew you would return on, and I have killed a young buck. He is good meat, and we are scarce of provisions."