would, to drain their properties, if they could
be relieved of the obstruction of the ditch—if
the surveyor of highways would see that the
ditch were taken in hand. Mr. Nelson
pronounced that there should be no difficulty
about the ditch, if the rest could be managed
and then, after a few whispered words between
the gentlemen, Allan was asked first,
whether he was sure that he knew where every
person lived whose name was down in the
surveyor's book; and next, whether he would
act as guide to-morrow. For a moment he
thought he should be wanted to move Abby's
things: but, remembering the vast importance
of the plan which seemed now to be
fairly growing under his eye, he replied that
he would go: he should be happy to make it
his day's work to help, ever so little, towards
what he wished above everything in the
world.

"What makes you in such a hurry to
suppose we want to get a day's work out of you
for nothing?" asked Mr. Nelson. He thrust
half-a-crown into the lad's waistcoat pocket,
saying that he must give it back again, if he
led the gentleman wrong. The gentleman
had no time to go running about the country
on a fool's errand; Allan must mind that.
As Allan touched his hat, and ran down the
steps, Mr. Nelson observed that boys with
good hearts did not fly about in that way, as
if they were merry, on the day of their
mother's funeral.

"Perhaps he is rather thinking of saving
his father," observed the surveyor.

"Well; save as many of them as you can.
They seem all going to pot as it is."

When Allan burst in, carrying nothing of
Abby's, but having a little colour in his
cheeks for once, his father sat up in his chair,
the baby suddenly stopped crying, and Moss
asked where he had been. At first, his father
disappointed him by being listless—first
refusing to believe anything good, and then
saying that any good that could happen now
was too late; and Abby could not help crying
all the more because this was not thought
about a year sooner. It was her poor
husband that had made the stir; and now
they were going to take his advice the very
day that he was laid in his grave. They all
tried to comfort her, and said how natural it
was that she should feel it so; yet, amidst all
their sympathy, they could not help being
cheered that something was to be done at
last.

By degrees, and not slow degrees,
Woodruffe became animated. It was surprising
how many things he desired Allan to be sure
not to forget to point out to the surveyor, and
to urge upon those he was to visit. At last
he said he would go himself. It was a very
serious business, and he ought to make an
effort to have it done properly. It was a
great effort, but he would make it. Not
rheumatism, nor anything else, should keep
him at home. Allan was glad at heart to see
such signs of energy in his father, though he
might feel some natural disappointment at
being left at home, and some perplexity as to
what, in that case, he ought to do about the
half-crown, if Mr. Nelson should be gone
home. The morning settled this, however.
The surveyor was in his gig. If Allan could
hang on, or keep up with it, it would be very
well, as he would be warned to open the
gates, and to lead the way in places too wet
for his father, who was not worth such a pair
of patent waterproof tall boots as the
surveyor had on.

The circuit was not a very wide one; yet
it was dark before they got home. There are
always difficulties in arrangements which
require combined action. Here there were
different levels in the land, and different
tempers and views among the occupiers. Mr.
Brown had heard nothing about the matter,
and could not be hurried till he saw occasion.
Mr. Taylor liked his field best, wet—would
not have it drier on any account, for fear of
the summer sun. When assured that drought
took no hold on well-dried land in comparison
with wet land, he shook with laughter, and
asked if they expected him to believe that.
Mrs. Scott, whose combination with two
others was essential to the drainage of three
portions, would wait another year. They
must go on without her; and after another
year, she would see what she would do.
Another had drained his land in his own way
long ago, and did not expect that anybody
would ask him to put his spade into another
man's land, or to let any other man put his
spade into his. These were all the obstructions.
Everybody else was willing, or at
least, not obstructive. By clever management,
it was thought that the parties concerned
could make an island of Mrs. Scott and her
field, and win over Mr. Brown by the time he
was wanted, and show Mr. Taylor that, as his
field could no longer be as wet as it had been,
he might as well try the opposite condition—
they promising to flood his field as often and
as thoroughly as he pleased, if he found it the
worse for being drained. They could not
obtain all they wished, where every body was
not as wise as could be wished; but so much
was agreed upon as made the experienced
surveyor think that the rest would follow;
enough, already, to set more labourers to
work than the place could furnish. Two or
three stout men were sent from a distance;
and when they had once cut a clear descent
from the ditch to the river, and had sunk the
ditch to seven feet deep, and made the bottom
even, and narrowed it to three feet, it was a
curious thing to see how ready the neighbours
became to unite their drains with it. It used
to be said, that here—however it might be
eIsewhere—the winter was no time for
digging: but that must have meant that no
winter-digging would bring a spring crop;
and that therefore it was useless. Now, the
sound of the spade never ceased for the rest