THE OAKS, 87

the cheery faces and high gambols of these healthy,
happy fellows. Now they are trying to bury the New-
foundland dog in new hay, from which he rises like an
animated hay-cock. Now they are repeating the ex-
periment with Bob Bolton, the biggest and best hum-
oured of the set. Now they turn somersets down the
green side of the quarry ; and now they are off, like a
herd of antelopes, in a race to the foot of the green hill,
where a silver rivulet marks the lowest spot in the ex-
tensive field. |
Timorous parents are sometimes greatly afraid of -
bones being broken or health being endangered in such
sports. But they are ignorant of the safeguards of
Providence, and occasionally interfere to the injury of
their children. It is wonderful how rare such evils
are, among tens of thousands of instances. I think I
_ have observed that in many families the eldest sons are
the most feeble and fearful: when the little flock in-
creases, the sports become more gay, and the adventure
more bold. And home-sports such as these, when un-
accompanied by ill tempers and ill words, are good and
laudable, even though their noise should sometimes jar
on the ear of the nervous. Unless we would rear a
generation of effeminate creatures, we must put up
with some noise, and some soiling and tearing of
raiment.
Barry was almost disposed to join in the sport,
though he half-doubted whether his dignity as an