F. FRETWAIL. Well I 'ope theer wun't be no rain, neither, come to that. I know I had all the P's of my "Piffler's Persuasive Pillules" fresh gold-leaved at Michaelmas, and it come on wet directly arter I done it, and reg'lar washed the gilt out o' sight an' knowledge, it did. Theer ain't no standin' up agen rain! F. RYEMOUTH. I dunno as I wouldn't as lief hev rain as sun. My "Hanti-Freckle Salves" all blistered up and peeled afore the summer was 'ardly begun a'most. [Illustration: "I cann't get nothen done to 'en till the weather's a bit more hopen like."] F. LACKADAY. 'Tis a turr'ble hard climate to make 'ead against, is ourn. I've 'eard tell as some farmers are takin' to they enamelled hiron affairs, same as they used to hev when I wur a lad. I mind theer wur a crop o' "Read Comic Cagmag" as lingered on years arter the paper itself. Not as I hold with enamelling, myself--'tain't what I call 'igh farmin'--takes too much outer the land in _my_ 'pinion. F. FRETWAIL. Aye, aye. "Rotation o' boards." Say, "Spooner's Sulphur Syrup" fur a spring crop, follered with some kind o' soap or candles, and p'raps cough lozengers, or hembrocation, or bakin' powder, if the soil will bear it, arterwards--that's the system _I_ wur reared on, and there ain't no better, 'pend upon it! F. RYEMOUTH. I tell 'ee what 'tis; it's time we 'ad some protection agen these yere furrin advartisements. I was travellin' along the Great Northern t'other day, an' I see theer wos two or three o' them French boards nigh in ivery field, a downright shame and disgrace I call it, disfigurin' the look of the country and makin' it that ontidy--let alone drivin' honest British boards off the land. Government ought to put a stop to it; that's what _I_ say! F. LACKADAY. They Parliment chaps don't keer _what_ becomes of us poor farmers, they don't. Look at last General Election time. They might ha' given our boards a turn; but not they. Most o' they candidates did all their 'tisin' with rubbishy flags and balloons--made in Japan, Sir, every blamed one o' them! And they wonder British Agriculture don't prosper more! F. RYEMOUTH. Speaking o' queer ways o' hadvertisin', hev any of ye set eyes on that farm o' young Fullacrank's? Danged if ever _I_ see sech tomfool notions as he's took up with in all _my_ born days. F. FRETWAIL. Why, what hev he been up to _now_, eh? F. RYEMOUTH. Well, I thought I shud ha' bust myself larfin' when I see it fust. Theer ain't not a board nor a sky sign; no, nor yet a 'oarding, on the 'ole of his land! F. LACKADAY. Then how do he expect to get a profit out of it?--that's what _I_ want to year. F. RYEMOUTH. You'll 'ardly credit it, neighbours, but he's been buryin' some o' they furrin grains, hoats and barley, an' I dunno what not, in little holes about his fields, so as to make the words, "Use Faddler's Non-Farinaceous Food"--and the best of it is the darned young fool expecks as 'ow it'll all sprout come next Aperl--he do indeed, friends!