“Oh, I give it up; I know nothing; but as long as I have you to tell me, what does it matter? I shall go and look for a wheatear’s nest in that fence,” said Fairy, rising and shaking back her long golden hair, which she still wore down her back, and which added greatly to her childish appearance. “My pretty one, wheatears don’t build in fences,” cried John Shelley, as she ran lightly past him. “She is doing it on purpose; she knows as well as you and I wheatears build in rabbit-holes or chalk-pits; she only wants me to scold her,” said Jack. “It is time we were at work again, Jack, or we shan’t get our eight hundred washed to-day,” said John, who saw Jack showed signs of going after Fairy, and wisely thought he would not see him back in a hurry if he once let him go. So the sheep-washing began again, and Mrs. Shelley, who had brought some work with her, promised Fairy to remain till tea-time, on condition that she then accompanied her home. “I do enjoy it so, mother,” said Fairy; “it would be wicked to spend such a bright warm sunny day as this shut up in a house; it is so delicious out in this field. I wonder how much they pay those washers; it must be dreadfully hard work; they ought to pay them well.” “They give them half-a-crown for every hundred sheep, and they can wash a thousand sheep a day, but these men won’t do more than finish John’s eight hundred to-day.” “That leaves nearly eight hundred more for to-morrow. Oh! do let us come and have another day like this. Will you, mother?” pleaded Fairy. Mrs. Shelley looked at the fair little face, with its great brown eyes, its dainty pink and white complexion, and the long wavy hair which veiled the slight girlish figure, and smiled and sighed—the smile was for Fairy, and the sigh for Jack—as she promised to do so if the weather were fine. [Illustration: THE SHEEP-WASHING.]