perhaps of the small dole of bran which constitutes his evening meal.

But Patricia A naughtier, more winsome, and more wholly attractive little kid it would be impossible to imagine. Pure white, like her mother is or ought to be, she is built-so Pakes informs me-on the best possible goat lines.

"A rare good milker I'll warrant her to be when her time comes," was the authority's dictum. At present she is a rare good player, and ready pretty well every hour of the day to enjoy a romp with any biped or quadruped whom she can induce to sport with her. Filial affection is not strongly developed, as she too clearly regards her mother in the light of a very convenient peripatetic milk-pump rather than as a congenial companion. Nor can I represent Victoria as being a model mother. In the week following her confinement I paid many a visit to Victoria in her stall, and could not help noticing that, when the old lady came up to eat out of my hand, it was a matter of entire indifference to her whether she was standing on her baby or on the floor; nor did the struggles of the living platform in any way spoil the pleasure of the meal. We goat-herds were not a little amused to find that at a very early stage of her existence Patricia had so far gauged the depths of her mother's awkwardness as to adopt her own methods of self-defence by coiling herself up either in the old lady's

feeding-bowl, which stood in one corner of the stall, or under the manger in another. Pretty as she looked in the bowl, we thought it advisable to encourage the safer refuge under the manger, and she readily adopted a small wooden box, which was placed there as her only bedstead. Latterly, as she has outgrown the box, she has been promoted to a tin foot-pan, which a leak rendered useless for its original purpose, and she seems to be delighted with the change. But far more important has been her promotion to outdoor life, which great event came to pass when she was a fortnight old. Like a child freshly emancipated from the schoolroom, Patricia seems to enjoy every minute of the day, and there being no governess at hand to interfere with her liberty, she makes the fullest use of it, and never seems to tire. Her favourite playmate for the first week was Susan, the terrier, and the great game was "King of the Castle," the castle being represented by what I take to be an old mounting-stone which stands just outside our yard gate.

On to this stone both animals would jump simultaneously from different sides, and almost as they landed, down would go Patricia's head, and it was a case of overboard with Susan. Later on I found myself pressed into the service, and as I was too heavy to dislodge and took up too much room on the stone, Patricia invented a new game for my benefit, putting me to stand

with my legs rather close together while she forced a passage between them. If I affected to be tired and sat down on the stone, the same game could be played with my arms; and occasionally having forced her way through on to my lap, she would stand up with her forefeet on my shoulders and examine the texture of my hair. This presently led to the discovery that if she could not dislodge my whole person, it was a comparatively simple matter to knock my straw hat off, and this feat it has amused her to perform a full dozen times in succession. And then in the middle of our game she has suddenly jumped off my lap and rushed off to refresh herself at the milk-pump, which has been alternately grazing and watching our performances. Indeed I seem to be regarded both by mother and child in the light of a benevolent grandfather, who may be trusted by the one to play the part of dry-nurse to the infant, by the other to be ready to be teased at any hour of the day. Now and again Victoria grows seriously alarmed if the child, who is over-fond of wandering, goes off on her own account, and pays a prolonged visit to Johnnie, who is grazing in another part of the grounds, and I find myself appealed to to recover the truant. Patricia, on her side, has all the wilfulness of her sex; and when I have sufficient reasons for not desiring her company, my attempts to close the yard door

in her face have more than once resulted in a regular pitched battle, as she on the one hand has made up her mind to follow me, and on the other hand it is no easy matter to shove her back and to shut the door simultaneously. A very good reason for not allowing her the freedom of the yard lies in the fact that she is by way of permanently spoiling the temper of an old white hen, which, having surreptitiously hatched six chickens, has brought them into the yard for educational purposes, and now chooses to consider the yard as her exclusive property. She has evidently taught both dogs to keep their distance, and I have myself received a most convincing dig on the calf as I was walking away after refilling her water-tin.

Patricia, however, simply regards the hen as what the modern generation is pleased to call "a real old sport," though she cannot quite understand why this new friend will not play out to the finish a game that has been specially invented for her. So simple a game too-the idea being that the hen should chase Patricia across the yard and up a flight of stone steps which lead to a loft, and that, so soon as they have both reached the top step, the hen should be knocked off again. The flat race is quite to the hen's liking, and she chases Patricia, who with her hop, step, and jump action easily keeps ahead, at her best speed; but the last part of the pro

gramme does not appeal to her, and she stops short at the steps, casts a vengeful glance at Patricia, who is dancing about at the top and challenging her pursuer to come up and be knocked off, and presently returns to her chickens. Within half an hour she will probably be invited to play again. One good reason that I have for discouraging the game lies in the fact that in the course of one of her headlong rushes, the hen, not Patricia, has permanently lamed one of her chickens. And now good-bye, Patricia! You are a funny little goat, and I hope that in due course you will fulfil your destiny, and become the best milker of the herd.

Hitherto, except in the case of the younger generation, I seem to have dealt only with the worst phases in a goat's character. Let me now proceed to enumerate their virtues.

In the first place, they are very intelligent, infinitely more so than sheep, so that I cannot help fancying that, when the sheep rank as the good and the goats as the bad folk in the Bible, the interpretation is that the latter animal is commonly more knave than fool, and the former more fool than knave. Very good people-alas! that I should say it-too frequently are extraordinarily insipid, and I may add that the business side of a really good parson's character is too often imperfectly developed. But how, it may be asked, have I gauged

the superior intelligence of the goat! Simply from this fact: a goat will recognise a friendly footstep in the distance, and will at once bleat out an appropriate remark either in the way of a welcome or cry of distress-two wholly different sounds: the welcome because the animal dearly loves companionship, the cry of distress because in Alexandra's case she has either got herself badly entangled in her rope or has eaten everything edible within her reach; in Victoria's, because Patricia has run away out of her sight, and she wants me to go and see that the child has not got into mischief.

In the second place, not only is a goat very affectionate towards those whom it knows, but it is kindly disposed towards both the human and other animals. The dog, as we all know, wags his tail in pleasure; the cat, more commonly, in anger. The goat, so far as nature, which has not been very liberal to it in the matter of a tail, permits, follows the dog's example, and my appearance will be greeted with a distinct wagging of each goat's stumpy appendix, which will be more intensified if I chance to be carrying either an extra dainty in the way of food or my weeding-basket, which has been known to contain such a supply. The dogs of the establishment, more particularly Susan and Nelly, the goats accept as friends of the familynay, even, when urgent eating is not in progress, as welcome

companions, and the occasional dive at a dog with the horns is generally sportive rather than vicious. Once only did Victoria wax seriously angry with Nelly, and that was when the latter, a comparative puppy and a new arrival, took a most unwarrantable liberty. Tethered in the vicinity of a mulberry-tree, Victoria discovered that by standing very upright on her hind-legs and stretching her neck, she could just reach an overhanging branch. She had been standing thus for two or three minutes when the spaniel, a most irreverent little lady, having come out prepared to play with Victoria or any other animal, suddenly seized the old goat's stumpy tail and gave it no mere tweak, but a substantial pull. In half no time Victoria was on all fours, and prepared seriously to resent the unprovoked attack. But the dog, who seemed to know the exact length of the tether, sat quietly down, wagging its tail just out of reach of the horns, but near enough to lick the goat's nose with her long tongue, and within two or three minutes a truce was concluded. And although I have heard it alleged that Alexandra has a queer temper, she has certainly never shown it to myself, and will often condescend to play with Patricia, though she is prone to lodge an objection when the heedless little thing, once in a way, mistakes her for the milk-pump.

me as being by far the most self-dependent of all domestic animals. It is true that when tethered it will invite human assistance to readjust the rope when entangled, to provide it with water, &c.; but if left untethered and to its own devices, it will shortly prove its ability to fend for itself in every way, making a beeline over hedges or through wire fences to whatever form of food it fancies, and selecting the most shady and comfortable spot for the midday siesta.

One is apt to wonder how the scapegoat of the Old Testament fared in after life. Well enough, I should be inclined to say, if it chanced to be a goat of ordinary intelligence. To such a one a free and unfettered life in the wilderness would strongly appeal, and both food and companionship, even if they took some finding, would in due course be procured. That either the sins of the people, or the implied curse, would rest heavily on its shoulders, can hardly be imagined; and even if the outcast eventually fell a prey to some wild beast, at any rate it would have been granted that fighting chance for life which was denied its more highly-esteemed but short-lived brother. I may add that my recollections of "Sweet William" tend to the belief that a full-grown male goat would be found an out-of-theway tough customer to tackle, whether as opponent or article