so scarce that the traveller does not meet one in a long
day's journey. Thousands of beautiful flowers decked
the greensward, and numbers of little birds hopped
about among them.
"Now, lads," said Joe Blunt, reining up, "our troubles
begin to-day."
"Our troubles?--our joys, you mean!" exclaimed
Dick Varley.
"P'r'aps I don't mean nothin' o' the sort," retorted
Joe. "Man wos never intended to swaller his joys