As for Mr Sudberry himself; his faith in the compass was equal to that of any mariner. The worthy man was, or believed himself to be, (which is the same thing, you know!) of profoundly scientific _tendencies_. He was aware, of course, that he had never really _studied_ any science whatever; but he had dabbled in a number of them, and he felt that he had immense _capacity_ for deep thought and subtle investigation. His mind was powerfully analytical--that's what it was. One consequence of this peculiarity of mind was that he "took his bearings" on short and known distances, as well as on long venturesome rambles; he tested himself and his compass, as it were. One day he had walked out alone in the direction of the village, four miles distant from the White House, whence the family derived their supplies. He had set out with his rod, (he never walked near the river without his rod), intending to take a cast in what he styled the "lower pools." By degrees he fished so near to the village that he resolved to push forward and purchase a few books. Depositing rod and basket among the bushes, he walked smartly along the road, having previously, as a matter of course, taken his bearings from the village by compass. A flock of sheep met him, gazed at him in evident surprise, and passed on. At their heels came the collie dog, with his tongue out. It bestowed a mild, intelligent glance on the stranger, and also passed on. Close behind the dog came the shepherd, with plaid bonnet and thick stick. "A fine day, friend," said Mr Sudberry. "Oo, ay, it _is_ a fine day." He also passed on. Another turn in the road, and Mr Sudberry met a drove of shaggy cattle, each cow of which looked sturdy and fierce enough for any ordinary bull; while the bull himself was something awful to look upon. There is nothing ladylike or at all feminine in the aspect of a Highland cow! Mr Sudberry politely stepped to one side, and made way for them. Many of the animals paused for an instant, and gazed at the Englishman with profound gravity, and then went on their way with an air that showed they evidently could make nothing of him. The drover thought otherwise, for he stopped. "Coot-tay to you, sir." "Good-day, friend, good-day. Splendid weather for the--for the--" Mr Sudberry did not know exactly for which department of agriculture the weather was most favourable, so he said--"for the cattle." "Oo, ay, the w'ather's no that ill. Can she tell the time o' day?" Out came the compass. "West-nor'-west, and by--Oh! I beg your pardon," (pulling out his watch and replacing the compass), "a quarter-past two." The drover passed on, and Mr Sudberry, chuckling at his mistake, took the bearings of a tall pine that grew on a distant knoll.