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UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.

existence upon earth, save an occasional rustling of boughs and snapping of twigs in divers points of the wood.

Never man nutted as Dick nutted that day. He worked like a galley slave. Hour after hour passed away, and still he gathered without ceasing. At last, when the sun had set, and bunches of nuts could not be distinguished from the leaves which nourished them, he shouldered his bag, containing about two pecks of the finest produce of the wood, and which were about as much use to him as two pecks of stones from the road, and strolled along a bridlepath leading into open ground, whistling as he went.

Probably, Miss Fancy Day never before or after stood so low in Mr. Dewy's opinion as on that afternoon. In fact, it is just possible that a few more blue dresses on the Yalbury young men's account would

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