A DOG OF FLANDERS. 49

work was done, than to lie buried in
the lush grasses on the side of the
canal, and watch the cumbrous ves-
sels drifting by and bringing the
crisp salt smell of the sea amongst
the blossoming scents of the coun-
try summer.

True, in the winter it was harder,
and they had to rise in the darkness
and the bitter cold, and they had sel-
dom as much as they could have eaten
any day, and the hut was scarce bet-
ter than a shed when thenights were
cold, although it looked so pretty in
warm weather, buried in a great
kindly clambering vine, that never
bore fruit, indeed, but which covered
it with luxuriant green tracery all
through the months of blossom and