To snatch the joys of to-day must always be the policy of the adventurer.

So I took one more happy afternoon at Newhall.

Nor was the afternoon entirely wasted; for, in the course of my farewell visit, I heard more of poor Susan Meynell's history from honest uncle Joseph.

He told me the story during an after-dinner walk, in which he took me the round of his pig-styes and cattle-sheds for the last time, as if he would fain have had them leave their impress on my heart.
"You may see plenty of cattle in Yorkshire," he remarked, complacently, "but you won't see many beasts to beat that." He pointed to a brown and mountainous mass of inert matter, which he gave me to understand was something in the way of cattle.
"Would you like to see him standing ?" he asked, giving the mass a prod with the handle of his walking-stick, which to my cockney mind seemed rather cruel, but which, taken from an agricultural point of view, was no doubt the correct thing.

"He _can_ stand.