6 AUGUST 1932, Page 12

As our car was starting I asked Mrs. Pickles whether

she would like to go back to England. Her answer was loud and emphatic : "Bother England ! " We heard ft at some distance as we rounded the corner. How could she but con- trast her urban life in a dense north-country town with this farm and its promise. She was earning wealth for herself and the Empire. There was no lack of affection for her native home in the exclamation. The new life was infinitely the better. That was all.