'Well, your highness,' said I, 'how about the
pain?' 'Pah!' says the king, 'where's
your philosophy? Did you never see a fly
jump into a lamp-flame?' 'Yes, sure,' I
answered. 'And what happened then? A
moment's crackle, and an end of it. You've
no time to feel pain.' 'Well, then,' said I,
'if your majesty will make a hole for me as
near the middle as is convenient to yourself,
I will jump into the bed straightway.' The
king made a great spatter among the coals,
and in I jumped. You know ma'am, that a
great part of our bodies is composed of
water."

"I don't know that of any gentleman in
this room," replied the landlady. "But I do
believe that you are two parts built out of
strong beer."

"There was a burst—a flash, gentlemen;
the liquid part of me went off in instantaneous
steam. I cried out with a sharp burn in
my foot. The pot was boiling over furiously
that contained our bit of dinner; and as I
sat close in to the fire, I got considerably
scalded. How I got back in the steam to rny
own fireside, I never rightly comprehended.
Fill the can now, Mrs. Pittis."

"Yes," said the landlady, "but let me tell
you, Mr. Spruce, that king of the hearth's is a
gentleman, and if you really had gone with
the coals and got acquainted with fire-sides,
it would have done you a great deal of
good. You'd have owned then that there is
a mighty deal more love than hatred in the
world. You'd have heard round almost any
hearth you chose to play eavesdropper to,
household words, anything but hard or bitter.
Some people do not pay their scores with me,
but on the whole I live. Some of our human
natures may run termagant; but on the
whole we men and women love. Among the
worst are those who won't bear quietly their
share of work, who can't learn self-reliance,
but run to and fro squealing for help, and
talking sentiment against their neighbours,
who won't carry their burdens for them. It's
all very well for a musty, discontented old
bachelor, to say there's no love in the world,,
but it's a falsehood. I know better."

"My pipe's out," said the boy. "Be
smart there with the 'baccy."

LIFE IN AN ESTANCIA.

THIRD PART.

THE horse department, although in point of
value, it is greatly inferior to that of the horned
cattle, is the right arm of the estanciero. It
is to him precisely what horses are to an army;
for as without them an army could neither
convey its artillery, baggage, nor stores, so,
without horses, the estanciero could neither
collect his cattle, nor keep them together
when, at certain periods, it is necessary to do
so. There is, also, at certain seasons, work to
be done which requires both the speed and
strength of the horse to assist the men to
perform it. For an Estancia to possess an
effective supply, I consider that each peon
ought to have ten sound horses assigned to
him. There ought, also, to be a certain
number reserved for special services, independent
of those required for the daily labour of
the establishment. Liable as the horses are
to accidents, and lamed from so many causes
when galloping at the top of their speed over
whatever ground the rider finds in his way,
it will be found that out of ten horses three
or four are from one cause or another put
hors de combat, and require to be left at ease
for some time. They are not fed, as in
England, on hay and corn, but turned out all
the year round. Let the weather be as it may,
the season favourable or unfavourable as
regards the supply of food, the horse must
still do his work. After he has been engaged
all the morning in collecting the cattle, the
peon brings him to the corral drenched with
sweat, and in that state he is unsaddled, and
turned adrift. The man then saddles another,
and that one, in his turn, has to work all day,
is tethered all night, and next morning at
day-break is taken out to collect the cattle,
and that done, he is let go in the same state
as the other, Let the weather be ever so
inclement. It is this which founders the horses
and soon renders them unfit for the work of
the rodio; they are then turned over to the
secondary duty, or given to the shepherds,
to tend the sheep.

In order to secure a good supply of colts, to
make good the wear and tear of the year,
herds of brood mares are kept, which yield
an annual supply. The small herds are called
manádas, and consist of from twenty-five to
thirty mares, and over them presides the
father of the family. The way in which these
manádas are brought together, is as follows:
From such of the other herds as have too
many females, you part off from twenty-five to
thirty mares. These are delivered over to the
horse, and with him shut up in the corral for
the night. Observe him well, and see how he
pays his addresses to them all in turn, and
tries to ingratiate himself with the ladies of
his harem.

They seem to feel their separation from
their old friends and companions, and look
cool and indifferent upon the gallant bride-
groom. At sunrise they are let out, and a
peon is appointed, to assist the horse to keep
them together. Presently one jade bolts away
at full speed, and tries to regain her old
accustomed herd. Away goes the horse in
chase, and as he overhauls her, with his ears
laid back, and his nose to the ground, he
compels her return quicker than she went away.
Half in play, and half in earnest, he snatches
at her haunches, whilst she, well aware that
she has done amiss, looks as full of fear as it
is possible, for a runaway to do. Before he
has got well breathed, another starts off in
the opposite direction. After her goes the
horse, and the jilt is brought back at the top