THE WATER-MILL.

FIELD NAMES.
'Our time be a-most gone by,' said the miller looking up from his work and laying aside the millpeck for a moment as he rubbed his eyes with his white and greasy sleeve.

From a window of the old mill by Okebourne I was gazing over the plain green with rising wheat, where the titlarks were singing joyously in the sunshine.

A millstone had been 'thrown off' on some full sacks--like cushions--and Tibbald, the miller, was dexterously pecking the grooves afresh.
The millpeck is a little tool like a double adze, or perhaps rather like two chisels set in the head of a mallet.

Though age was stealing upon him, Tibbald's eye and hand were still true, and his rude sculpture was executed with curious precision.