I haven't ploughed my orchard for ten years, and don't expect to plough it for ten years more.

Then your Aunt Hattie's hens are so obliging that they keep me from the worry of finding ticks at shearing time.

All the year round, I let them run among the sheep, and they nab every tick they see." "How closely sheep bite," exclaimed Miss Laura, pointing to one that was nibbling almost at his master's feet.
"Very close, and they eat a good many things that cows don't relish bitter weeds, and briars and shrubs, and the young ferns that come up in the spring." "I wish I could get hold of one of those dear little lambs," said Miss Laura.

"See that sweet little blackie back in the alders.

Could you not coax him up ?" "He wouldn't come here," said her uncle kindly; "but I'll try end get him for you." He rose, and after several efforts succeeded in capturing the black-faced creature, and bringing him up to the log.