will you help me to receive them? but first, pray tell me what sort of people they are." "Personally I am little acquainted with Mr. Ennis," said he; "but I know his character,—he is one of your principal tenants. They are very worthy people, with a large family, whom they are bringing up well; and, though not exactly belonging to our own class, are entitled to every mark of civility and kindness, but, pray take notice, not that sort of kindness which appears like condescension." Evelyn found her visitors in the drawing-room; they were accompanied by a blooming little girl, whom Mrs. Ennis said was ambitious of seeing the mistress of a castle, while they were paying their respects to her. Evelyn was so determined to be civil, that she took rather too much pains to please; but her goodnatured animated countenance, the interest she seemed to take in Ireland, and her evident habits of observation, all won Mr. Ennis. Finding in the course of conversation that she had never seen a sheep-shearing, he invited her to come the next day to be present at his; adding that, as there were few sheep-farms in their neighbourhood, he hoped she would not lose the opportunity, which he could not have offered her now, so far advanced was the summer, but that he had been ill, and unable till now to superintend the business himself. "And now," said Mrs. Ennis, "it will be a day of real rejoicing to all our family, as his health has been so graciously restored. My children are to have a piper and a syllabub to celebrate it completely; and if you, Miss O'Brien, will condescend to join us in such homely pleasures, we shall be most happy to see you and your friend and Mr. Desmond." Evelyn was charmed at the idea; but turned to her father with a hesitating look, as if fearful of forgetting her dignity in her wish for the amusement proposed to her. "Oh, yes," said Mr. Desmond, "let us accept Mr. Ennis's hospitable invitation by all means, if Mrs. Manvers feels herself well enough to accompany us. You ought to be acquainted with all our rural pleasures." "I wish Mabel and Gerald could be along with us. Could we not send for them, papa?" "No, my dear, there is not time now, for Mr. Ennis will begin early, before the freshness of the morning is spoiled by the heat of the sun." Evelyn had been so much accustomed to indulgence, that she imagined it was no very great demand upon the compliance of one of her own tenants to ask Mr. Ennis if he could not be so kind as to defer the sheep-shearing to another day; and she felt rather mortified when, smiling at her proposal, he declared it impossible, as the sheep had been washed that very day, and must of course be shorn on the following morning. "Washed!" exclaimed she. "Do you really mean washed?" "Yes," ," he replied; "they are driven into the river, where men standing in the stream scrub their heavy fleeces, so as to wash away much of the dirt that has long been gathering, as well as to render the work more easy; just as grass is more easily mowed when it has been wetted by rain or heavy dew." Yes," said Evelyn; "I remember that it was always after rain that the little green lawn at the back of my grandfather's house was mown." "and "Just so, my dear young lady," said Mr. Ennis ; therefore I cannot, you see, comply with your wish; and, indeed, as it is, I am later than all my neighbours. Next year I will give you timely notice, for I should be proud to see Mr. Desmond's family at my place; though probably a sheep-shearing would be no novelty to them. But yourself and party I hope we shall have the honour of seeing tomorrow before ten. I do not name the time at which I shall begin, as that will be very early; but my flock is large, and the business will not be finished till late. Good day, ladies; good day, Mr. Desmond.-Come, Mrs. Ennis, we must be going.-To-morrow then, before ten, Miss O'Brien." This visit was of use to both Evelyn and Mrs. Manvers; they seemed to have become better acquainted, as if thrown back on each other by the presence of strangers. Evelyn's manners during the evening were less cold and reserved towards Mrs. Manvers, who on her part looked less melancholy, and they conversed a little about a book with which Mr. Desmond tried to amuse them. CHAPTER XIX. The Sheep-shearing - Difference between Wool and Hair - Wool of various kinds of Sheep The Dance - The Cashmere Goat. THE morning of the sheep-shearing was bright and calm and warm-a day exactly suited to such rural occupations and to their enjoyment. A path across very pretty fields, which Evelyn had yet scarcely seen, and through a long grove of beech, which her grandfather had planted to screen those fields, led to a clear little rivulet with flowery banks; over it was a rude bridge made of hurdles, by which they immediately entered on Mr. Ennis's land; and then a well-mowed grasswalk brought them through a shrubbery and up a sloping bank to the house, where Mrs. Ennis received Evelyn with the kindness and respect due from a tenant, but quite distinct from fawning servility. "We thought you would come this way, Miss O'Brien," said Mrs. Ennis, "and we guessed rightly that you would prefer a walk through the fields instead of driving this charming morning; but I hope you are not over-heated. Pray walk into the house and rest.' "On! no, no! Let us go at once to the sheep; we may rest afterwards," said Evelyn, with her usual ardour about everything new to her. The party was conducted through the farm-yard to an adjoining field. The various sounds of children's voices, the call of the lambs, the bleating of sheep, and even the bagpipes, were heard before they reached the nice little spot where, shaded by a stately grove of ashtrees, sat Mr. Ennis, superintending the shearing of his numerous flock; and among the many assembled about him was a blind piper, who from time to time enlivened the scene by a tune on the bagpipes. The unshorn animals were collected together in large pens, from whence they were led in turn to those "who whet the sounding shears," and who skilfully contrive to hold the struggling creature within their grasp, managing dexterously to turn it from side to side, and to cut off the wool so smoothly and so rapidly, that Evelyn was astonished, every time she saw the shears close, that the poor animal was not wounded. She was shocked too at the force with which the shearers seemed to throw down each sheep, in order to gain power over it; and, again, when the poor creatures struggled, she was continually exclaiming "Oh! you will hurt it. Oh! stop, stop; its legs will be broken!" The shearers smiled and shook their heads, saying, "Never fear, Miss ;" and Mr. Ennis, repeatedly assuring her that the sheep were in no danger, her anxiety was at last calmed. But she was again distressed on observing that each sheep was led, as soon as its fleece was removed, to a sheltered spot near the wall, where there was a turf fire, on which stood a huge iron pot, containing, as Mr. Ennis informed her, melted tar. A large iron cipher of G. E., fastened to a long handle, being then dipped in the hot fluid, was quickly pressed on the side of the poor new-shorn creature, which when thus branded was set at liberty, and joyfully bounded away to its companions in the field. "How exact is the poet's description," said Mrs. Man vers "Meantime the joyous task goes on apace: "Yes, it is indeed most exact," cried Evelyn. "I never knew till now how truly the whole scene of the sheep-shearing is painted by Thomson; do pray repeat some more!" At her request Mrs. Manvers continued :— "Behold where, bound and of its robe bereft Who, having now, to pay his annual care, "Thank you, Mrs. Manvers; charming indeed it is, and your soft voice adds to its beauty. I have read Thomsonsome parts several times-other parts I did not like quite so much; I suppose because I had never observed the scenes that he describes." Evelyn then walked about with her father, going from one shearer to another, and interested by everything she saw. Observing the peculiar softness and silkiness of the inside wool of each fleece, she asked him in what way wool differed from hair except in its being finer and very much curled? "That is a question which I cannot answer from my own observation; but I will tell you what I heard stated some time ago in a lecture by a scientific friend on that subject. He referred to the discoveries of Dr. Elbe, a German naturalist, who asserted that by means of a powerful solar microscope he perceived that the separate little filaments of which the thread of wool consists are twisted and matted together in all directions. The thread is irregular in thickness, sometimes swelled out, with an almost knotty appearance, and containing in the middle a transparent canal which appears quite distinct from the substance of the outside. The various proportions these parts bear to each other form the chief difference between fine and coarse wool." "It is difficult to imagine a canal in so small a substance," said Evelyn. "It is, my dear; I have tried to trace it myself with the best microscope to which I had access, but I have not been able to distinguish this minute formation. That canal is said to be divided into separate spaces, or cells, which in merino wool are at regular intervals, though not in common wool." "It is very astonishing to see such distinct formation in such a small space!" "It is indeed, Evelyn; the minuteness of the component parts of substances which appear perfectly simple till magnified is most curious, and gives a field for perpetual microscopical examination; for instance, it has been discovered that |