-.l nml I'rmU'il in Colours liy Vi/rtrlly Brother* ami ('
 
 THE 
 
 COUNTRY YEAR BOOK, 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE OF THE SEASONS; 
 
 RURAL SCENES AND RUSTIC AMUSEMENTS; 
 
 BIRDS, INSECTS, AND QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 BY THOMAS MILLER, 
 
 WITH ONE HUNDRED A\D FORTY ILLUSTRATION'S, 
 
 Engraved on Wood, by HF.SRV VIIBTEI.I.T, and Oilier- 
 
 AUTUMN & WINTER. 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186 STRAND 
 
 MDCCCILVII.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 VlZETKU.i BROTHERS AND CO., PKINTKRS AND ENGRAVERS, 
 PETKRBOBOCGH COURT. FLEET STREET.
 
 BEACTY OF ACTUMN PICTURE OF HARVEST; ANXIETY OF THE FARMER 
 GROUP OP GLEANERS; DESCRIPTION op CORN REAPING; HARTEST-HOME ; 
 STUBBLE-FED GEESE; THE FEAST OP HARVEST-HOME BEAUTY OP WOODS IN 
 AUTUMN AGARICS AND FUNGI WOODLAND SCENERY CORRINGHAM SCROGGS 
 THE WILDEST SCENERY IN ENGLAND! OUR BLACKBERRYING, CRABBING, AND 
 SLOE AND BULLACE GATHERING IN THE SCROGGS; THE BIRDS AND WlLD 
 ANIMALS WE SAW THERE; DESCRIPTION OF THE DREADFUL THUNDER-STORM 
 WE WERE OUT IN, ON CoRRINGHAM SCROGGS ARRIVAL OF THE WOODCOCK ; 
 ITS CURIOUS HABITS OWLS IN THE FOREST OUR NUTTIHG EXCURSION IN THE 
 WOODS; HOW TWO BOYS WERE LOST IN THE WOOD, AND WHAT THEY SAID 
 AND DID, AND WHAT COURAGE ONE OF THEM DISPLAYED WHEN ALL THE DANGER 
 WAS OVER ADVENTURE WITH A WILD CAT IN THB FOREST; HABITS OF THE 
 WILD CAT BATTLE BESIDE A WOOD IN THE TIME OP THE CIVIL WARS 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE MARTIN; THE HAVOC IT MAKES AMONGST POULTRY, &c. 
 THE OLD MISER op MARTIN ; ROW HE TAUGHT HIS LAD JACK TO BECOME 
 SAVING; AND HOW HE DINED FOR A PENNY: TOGETHER WITH OTHER ADVEN- 
 TURES THAT BEFEL HIM MY UNCLE*! ORCHARD AT TlIONOCK ; THE PLEASANT 
 DAYS 1 SPENT THERE IN AUTUMN, HELPING TO GATHER IN THE FRUIT; THE 
 
 STORE ROOM: GOING TO MARKET How WE ONCE CAPTURED A BADGER; WHAT 
 WE DID WITH IT, AND WHAT IT DID FOR ITSELF AUTUMN FLOWERS: SAFFRON ; 
 CROCUS; PEPPERMINT; WILD-THYME; LING AND HEATHER; OX-EYE DAISY; 
 GOLDES-ROD; EYE-BRIGHT. &c. POISONOUS BERRIES DESCRIPTION OF THE 
 GARDEN SPIDER, AND ITS CURIOUS WEB FATHER LONG-LEGS AND HIS LARGE 
 FAMILY OF LONG-LEGS THE CHEESE HOPPER WHEAT-FLY AND ICHNEUMUN 
 
 2090985
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 HARVEST MOUSE, AND ITS CURIOUS NEST COMMON HOUSE MOUSE SONG OF 
 THE THREE BLIND MICE HOGS FEEDING IN THE FOREST IN AUTUMN CRUELTY 
 OF THE ANCIENT FOREST LAWS WOLVES AND WILD BOARS IN THE OLDEN- 
 TIKE BATTLE BETWEEN Two WILD BOARS IN THE NEW FOREST THE 
 HAUNTED LAKE, A BALLAD NOT TO BE BELIEVED BEAUTY OP DEER IN A 
 FOREST: RED DEER; ROEBUCK BRANDY-BALL JACK; HOW HE MANUFACTURED 
 HIS BRANDY-BALLS, AND HOW WE DISCOVERED HIS SECRET; JACK'S ADVEN- 
 TURE WITH HIS PORK-PIE HISTORY^. OF THE DOG: BLOODHOUND; STAG- 
 BOUND; GREYHOUND; TERRIER; SHEPHERD-DOG; NEWFOUNDLAND-DOG; SPANIEL 
 ANECDOTE, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE DEVOTED ATTACHMENT op THE SPANIEL ; 
 SEA-SIDE SCENERY; SAILING ON THE SEA; DESCRIPTION OF THE SEA WHEN 
 ('AIM, AND DURING A STORM HABITS OF THE SHELDRAKE A SEA-SIDE YARN 
 OR THE ADVENTURES OF BILIY, THE OLD SAILOR, AND HOW HE SWAM A THOU- 
 SAND MILES; AND BEAT THE BLACK NIGGER A COUNTRY FAIR, WITH A DE- 
 SCRIPTION OF ALL THE WONDERFUL THINGS WE SAW THERE, NOT FORGETTING 
 
 THE "WOHSER" MIGRATION OF BlRDS : SWALLOWS, AND THEIR HABITS 
 FIFTH OF NOVEMBER, AND HOW WE MADE A GUY LAND AND WATER SHREW ; 
 SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEF IN THE SHREW ASH; SONG ON BURYING A SHREW 
 MOUSE BEAUTY OF PHEASANTS ; THEIR HABITS PARTRIDGES DESCRIBED IN- 
 JUSTICE OF THE GAME LAWS LIZARDS HOP-PICKING; ITS BEAUTY; HOP- 
 PICKERS DESCRIBED END OF AUTUMN.
 

 
 " Thou shalt hear 
 Distant harvest carols ; clear 
 Rustic of the reaped com ; 
 Sweet birds antlit-min:- the morn : 
 Acorns ripe down pattering, 
 While the Autumn breezes ting." Kti'is 
 
 AUTUMN ! yet with such masses 
 of foliage still hanging out in 
 the landscape, that, were it 
 not for the red and yellow 
 hues which mark the fading 
 of so many trees, we 
 might almost fancy 
 Summer still 
 
 v ^,
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 13 ut the ears of com which trail on the hedges in narrow 
 lanes, the gates that here and there stand open, with children 
 either swinging upon them, or clambering up to reach the strag- 
 gling ears, which hang upon the boughs above their heads 
 the rumbling of wheels, the creaking of the wagon, the cracking 
 of the whip, and the shout of the driver, tell us that the corn- 
 harvest is already begun, and that the fields which, a few weeks 
 ago, waved with their millions of heads of heavy wheat, and 
 horned barley, are now shorn and piled up in golden sheaves. 
 Here and there we may still see a few sun-burnt reapers at work, 
 their foreheads bound round with various coloured handkerchiefs 
 to keep off the heat, and their white sleeves showing like spots 
 of light in the landscape, while the stooping attitudes of the 
 gleaners, in costumes of all colours, the half-laden wagon in 
 the centre of the field, the bold dark outline of the horses, the 
 " shocks" of sheaves reared to dry at regular distances, and 
 stretching in rows upon every rounded and stubbly furrow, 
 together with the hill in the background, and the trees which 
 everywhere rise up and break the level lines of the scene, make 
 altogether such a pleasing picture, that for months afterwards 
 it rises up before the imagination, and we think of it with 
 feelings of delight. Nor can we gaze upon such a scene with- 
 out thinking of the bountiful provision which the Creator has 
 made for our wants, and feeling thankful that, amid the cold and 
 darkness of the coming winter, we shall still be surrounded 
 by plenty, and that the poor man will soon be enabled to eat 
 his bread uu taxed by the rich. 
 
 Beautiful as the hay-field is with its wind-rows and liigh 
 piled cocks, and sweet perfume, still it Mis far short of the 
 interest and earnestness and sober bustle of the Wheat-harvest. 
 During the getting in of the latter the farmer evinces more 
 anxiety about the weather, for he well knows the damage that 
 a few days rain would do to his crop, how the ears would begin 
 to sprout, and the corn turn soft, and the loss he would have
 
 GLEANERS. 
 
 to sustain in the market. The last thing at night he looks at 
 the sky, and the appearance of a few dark clouds which hang 
 over and threaten rain, are often the means of preventing 
 him from enjoying a sound night's rest, however weary he may 
 be. If the morning is fine, he is up and out amongst his men, 
 feeling of a sheaf here, and handling a " shock " (a stack of 
 eight sheaves) there, and carefully examining them to see if 
 they will be dry enough, to be " carted off" and placed on the 
 great stack in the rick-yard, or the high roofed barn, when the 
 sun has been out an hour or two, and the morning dews are all 
 dried up from the earth. Then he goes to another field, 
 which lies further off, and is not quite so forward, to see how the 
 reapers get on there, or how the mowers have cut down the 
 barley, or to see that the swine, which were turned in after the 
 field was cleared, are all safe. He passes groups of gleaners on 
 his way, who curtsy and bow to him as he rides along, for he 
 is one of those who, like Boaz in the Bible, permits them 
 to glean even amongst the sheaves, taking care whenever 
 he discovers that any of them have been stealing from the 
 " shocks," never to allow them to enter his fields again, at 
 least not during that harvest. Children he will only repri- 
 mand, and bid their mothers look closer after them, kindly 
 adding, " that it is natural for them to get into mischief." A 
 pretty sight it is to watch the little rustics, with their coarse 
 gleaning bags hanging before them, and a pah* of old scissors 
 dangling by their side, dotting the corn-field, and ever bobbing 
 down like so many crows, picking up an ear here and there, 
 now pausing to straighten their aching backs, then halting to 
 cut off the straw from the little handful of corn they have 
 gleaned, before thrusting it into the bag which hangs before 
 them ; and working on, perhaps under the promise that if they 
 gather four of those bag-fulls by night, they shall either have a 
 piece of apple-pie when they get home, or if they keep up to 
 their task until Saturday night, a halfpenny to spend in what
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 they like not to be put in the money-box no, no, for they 
 know if it once gets there, it -will only come out perhaps a 
 year after, to help towards buying a pair of new, or second- 
 hand shoes. Then to see how their little raw hands and red 
 legs are pricked and pierced by the stubble, and are almost 
 as hard and as rough as rasps, through being exposed to the 
 weather. An important time is this for the poor mother who 
 has a large family, and has the privilege of gleaning after her 
 husband : Nor is it less interesting to watch the 
 
 
 REAPERS AT \VORK:
 
 HARVEST-FIELD. 
 
 % 
 
 to see how quick the sickle is put in amongst the standing 
 corn, and when it is drawn out again, to notice that a 
 great handful has been cut, and is then placed upon the twisted 
 wheat-bands which are stretched across the stubble ; and so they 
 go on cutting down sheaf after sheaf, then tying them up, and, 
 after a time, rearing the sheaves up into " shocks " or stacks," 
 or "field-stacks," as they are called in some parts of the 
 country, and which they place in two rows, three or four 
 sheaves on each side, face to face, and all meeting together, 
 and forming a fine yellow plumy top ; then they plant another 
 sheaf at each end, and leave the sun and wind to do their 
 work ; and, in a few days, the " shocks" are dry enough, and hard 
 enough to be carried away in the wagon, load after load, until 
 the whole harvest is got in. And rare gleaning is there, I can 
 assure you, when those " shocks " are taken up ; such a quantity 
 of loose ears in the " cradle," as the spot is termed, where the 
 sheaves stood, that there is sometimes a regular scramble 
 amongst the gleaners, to see who can get the most; and the 
 man who is loading the wagon is often compelled to threaten 
 that he will lift them on the load with his fork, if they do not 
 get further out of the way. Then to see the little harvest-mice 
 and field-mice that scamper off when the shocks are removed ; 
 and which I will tell you all about when I have done with 
 harvest-time, and all the bustle of the corn-field is over. 
 
 But I like Harvest-home best to come upon me unaware ; 
 to be rambling down some narrow, winding lane, which leads to 
 nowhere but the fields, or to some old-fashioned footpath across 
 them ; a road which is never used only when the farmers get in 
 their corn or hay. This is the spot to be sauntering in, and be 
 startled by the loud " huzza ! " and then to come suddenly upon 
 the corn-field, and see the last load approaching the gate, while 
 gleaners and all are shouting to the very top of their voices ; 
 just as they did in the days of Herrick, who lived in Shak- 
 spere's time ; and a capital poem Herrick wrote about Harvest-
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 home, -which contains a description of how the boys ran after 
 the last load and shouted, and what the fanner provided for the 
 Harvest-feast. But I must extract a few lines, which are so 
 plainly written that you cannot but understand them. The 
 "thill" is an old Saxon word for shaft; the "thill horse" is 
 the shaft horse, and was called so in the time of King Alfred. 
 It is a true old English word, and is still used at the present 
 day in many places in the country. And now for the extract 
 from Herrick's " Hock-cart, or Harvest-home :" 
 
 " About the cart hear how the rout 
 Of rural younglings raise the shout, 
 Pressing before, some coming after, 
 Those with a shout, and these with laughter; 
 Some bless the cart, some kiss the sheaves, 
 Some prank them up with oaken leaves, 
 Some "pat" the thill-horse, some with great 
 Devotion stroke the home-borne wheat ; 
 While other rustics, less attent 
 To prayer than to merriment, 
 Run after, with their garments rent." 
 
 Is not this a capital description, to be written above two 
 hundred years ago ? The " rural younglings," you know, means 
 the boys and girls, who shouted and laughed, and ran before 
 and after the load, some "with garments rent;" for you see 
 any thing was good enough to glean in, and there were poor 
 ragged children in those days. Some were so thankful, that 
 they " stroked the corn-sheaves with great devotion ;" for their 
 hearts were glad, when they saw how bountifully Providence 
 had again provided for their wants. 
 
 Onward comes the wagon the last load reaches the 
 village, at the end of which the good farmer lives, and every 
 cottager rushes out to welcome it, and to shout as it passes. 
 The tailor uncrosses his legs, throws down his goose and sleeve- 
 board, and with his stockings hanging about his heels, and his 
 spectacles shoved up to his forehead, raises his weak voice and 
 
 6
 
 THE LAST LOAD. 
 
 brandishes his shears, snapping them together over his head, 
 and dancing a queer kind of a polka, and seeming so delighted 
 that he would almost jump out of his skin if he could. The 
 great brown blacksmith comes out of his smoky smithy, leaning 
 on his ponderous hammer, and shouting so loudly with his deep 
 rough voice, that you might hear him a mile off. The wheel- 
 wright leaves the spoke half-driven into the "nave," and un- 
 tying his coarse, dirty apron, waves it over his head like a 
 banner, making the chips and dirt fly in all directions : out 
 also rushes the lame shoemaker, brandishing one of the big 
 farmer's top-boots which he was at work upon, and shouting 
 like the rest of his neighbours, and seeming quite as pleased as 
 if the load of corn was his own ; and he has every reason 
 to be pleased, for his wife and four children have been allowed 
 to glean in all the farmer's fields, ever since the first day 
 that the reapers began to cut down the corn. The old deaf 
 grandmother, who seldom leaves her creaking wicker chair 
 in the chimney-corner, has for once quitted her spinning- 
 wheel, and, shading the sunshine from her wrinkled face 
 with her thin skinny hand, while the other rests on the horn- 
 tipped staff, which has been her companion for fifty years, 
 comes out, followed by the old grey cat, who looks almost as 
 grave as herself, and seems sorely puzzled to know what it 
 can be that has called forth its venerable mistress from her 
 snug warm corner. And the poor old creature raises her 
 shrill, cracked voice, to welcome home the last load : and 
 she will be chatty and communicative all the evening after, 
 and tell her grand-children what Harvest-homes she has seen 
 in her day ; and then she will begin to lament over good old 
 customs, May-day games (which only live now in name), sheep- 
 shearing feasts, and the merry doings there used to be at Christ> 
 mas-tide, when she was a young woman. 
 
 Onward moves the wagon, amid the shouts of old and young. 
 The very dogs run barking after it. A flag hangs out at the
 
 AUTUMN. -^ 
 
 village ale-house, with its sign of either "The Old Wheat- 
 sheaf," "The Plough," or "The Barley-mow." The land- 
 lord stands at the door, and flourishes his pipe round his head : 
 the ostler pauses with the wisp of hay in his hand, and ceases 
 to rjub down the horse, which stands under the shed : the 
 chamber-maid leans out of the window, and nods and smiles at 
 everybody she knows : and the heavy wagon approaches the 
 stack-yard. The farmer's wife and daughter are at the door 
 dressed in their holiday attire, and smiling welcome on all 
 alike, right proud in their hearts of the many good things 
 they have provided for the sun-burnt reapers : the shout- 
 ing becomes louder the men on the wagon take off their 
 hats you see them point to the sheaf which stands up in the 
 centre of the wagon, and is covered with blue ribands and 
 beautiful flowers they rend the air with loud huzzas. The 
 very horses jerk their heads with pride, and toss the ears of 
 com and ribands and flowers about, with which they are 
 adorned, while they draw in the last load ; as if they, too, were 
 conscious that they had done their duty towards the gathering 
 in of harvest. And now the wain is drawn up beside the huge 
 com-rick, where so many loads have been deposited ; sheaf after 
 sheaf is added to the stack, until the last one is lifted upon the 
 fork. Then rings out the great shout the gathering together 
 of all huzzas and three-times-three is timed by the men on 
 the corn-stack, the last loud welcome of Harvest-home. Then 
 a feast is prepared in the bam, or under the large tree in the 
 orchard, for the reapers ; and huge pieces of beef, and large 
 plum-puddings are attacked by the hungry labourers, who 
 every now and then empty great bumpers of ale, as they 
 drink welcome to Harvest-home. Bloomfield, in his collection 
 of poems, entitled, "Wild Flowers," describes the Harvest-feast, 
 which he calls the " Horkey," and how one of the maidens, 
 who had helped to reap the corn, rode on the top of the wagon, 
 and was called the " Harvest Queen." He says : 
 
 8
 
 HAKVEST-HOME. 
 
 " Home came the jovial ' harvest' load, 
 
 Last of the whole year's crop ; 
 And Grace amongst the green boughs rode, 
 Right plump upon the top. 
 
 * * 
 
 This way and that the wagon reeled, 
 
 And never queen rode higher ; 
 Her cheeks were coloured in the field, 
 And ours hefore the fire." 
 
 The last line alludes to the " cheeks" of the old gossip, 
 whom Bloomfield has made to describe the scene, and whose 
 face, like those who had assisted her, was coloured through 
 exposure to the fire, whilst cooking and preparing the many sub- 
 stantial things which were consumed at the great Harvest-feast ; 
 amongst which we must not forget to mention the roast geese. 
 Oh ! such prime ones, for they have been turned out into the 
 stubble, to make them fat against Michaelmas, a " stubble-fed 
 goose" being considered the finest eating of any ; and such a 
 dish you know, with a plum-pudding to follow, is not what we 
 often meet with at school and oh, how you would laugh to see 
 in an evening the 
 
 GEESE RETURNING HOME, 
 
 as Bewick had often seen them, all in a row, and from whose 
 admirable illustrations, we have copied this little sketch ; but 
 whether it be a love of home, or a fear of the fox, that causes 
 
 9
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 them to keep such good hours, I must leave to the old goose 
 who is seen leading the way to decide, and of whose wisdom, 
 Skelton, who was poet laureat to King Henry the Eighth, 
 makes merry mention, when he says, 
 
 "When the rain raineth, 
 And the goose winketh, 
 Little wotteth the gosling 
 "What the goose thinketh." 
 
 Wotteth is a very old English word which signifies " knoweth," 
 and is often met with amongst our ancient authors. 
 
 But I was telling you about the Harvest-feast, before I set 
 out on this wild goose-chase. You should be there to see them 
 eat and drink ; how you would stare at the holes they make in 
 the roast geese ! and some one, who perhaps has never tasted 
 such a dai nty dish since the last Harvest- feast, thrusts his 
 plate forward to the man who is carving, and says, " May I 
 trouble you for another leg of that goose ?" sitting too far off 
 to perceive that both legs and wings have long since been de- 
 voured. Then the carver exclaims, "Why thou'st had two 
 already, do 'st think the goose had three legs ? Try the beef 
 again, man try the beef; " at which they all laugh louder 
 than ever, while he, who asked for the supply, says, " I wish 
 the goose was all legs, they're such easy picking." And then 
 again to hear them talk about the feats that they have accom- 
 plished in the harvest-field the number of sheaves they have 
 cut, tied, and reared up, within the space of a single day. 
 They recall the hottest day they have reaped in, and the mere 
 remembrance of it causes them to drink deeper draughts while 
 they talk, " to quench," as they say, " the spark in their throats." 
 They recount the many hours they have reaped between sun- 
 rise and sunset ; who worked the longest, and who was the first 
 to give in ; what land was the heaviest cutting, and which field 
 bore the lightest crop. Then there is ever a sly joke aimed at 
 some one, who was almost always inquiring, whether it was
 
 HARVEST-FEAST. 
 
 not time for luncheon or dinner; who visited the ale flagon 
 oftener than he ought to do ; and who liked 
 
 RESTING IN THE HARVEST-FIELD 
 
 better than reaping in the hot sun ; " not that he was afraid of 
 work," say they, with knowing looks, " not he he was so fond 
 of it, that he would lie down and go to sleep beside it." Then 
 they laugh heartily, as if such a stale joke was quite new, and 
 commence eating and drinking again, as if they had found 
 new appetites, and never intended to leave off. Many such- 
 like random shots of country wit are bandied about ; for where 
 all feel so great an inclination to be merry, it requires but little 
 to furnish them with laughter. And nowhere does mirth 
 abound more than at one of these old-fashioned feasts, which 
 welcome in Harvest- home. ll
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Beautiful are the woods at this season of the year, and 
 never did the hand of an artist throw such rich colours upon the 
 glowing canvas, as may now be found in the variegated foliage 
 of the trees. The leaves of the beech are dyed in the deepest 
 orange that ever the eye saw gathered in burning gold around 
 an Autumn sunset, along the western slope of heaven. The 
 dark green of the oak is in parts mellowed into a bronzy 
 brown, blending beautifully with the faded yellow of the chest- 
 nut, and the deeper hues of the tall elm ; while at intervals the 
 sable fir settles down into dark shadows, between the alternate 
 tints ; and far as the eye can range along the wide outskirts of 
 the forest, it revels in the mingled hues of mountain, field, 
 ocean, and sky, as if the flowered meadow, and the purpled 
 mountain, and the green billows of the sea, the blazing sunset, and 
 the dark clouds of evening, had all rolled together their bright 
 and sombre dyes, and gathered about the beautiful death-bed of 
 the expiring Summer. Over the hedgerow ti-ails the rambling 
 biiony, and we see bunches of crimson and green berries, half 
 tempting us by their gushing ripeness to taste the poisonous 
 juice which lies buried beneath their deceptive beauty. The hips 
 of the wild rose rest their rich scarlet upon the carved ebony of 
 the luscious blackberry, while the deep blue of the sloe throws 
 over all the rich velvet of its fruit, as it stands crowned with its 
 ruddy tiara of hawthorn-berries. On the ground are scattered 
 thousands of polished acorns ; their carved and clear cups lying 
 empty amongst the fallen leaves, until gathered by the village 
 children, who deck their rustic stools with these primitive tea 
 services, and assemble round them with smiling faces, and 
 looks of eager enjoyment, while they sip their sugar and water 
 out of these old fairy-famed drinking vessels. 
 
 In addition to all these lights and shadows of Autumnal 
 splendour, we every now and then stumble upon great groups 
 of agarics, or fungi, of all hues and of all names, as mushrooms, 
 
 toadstools, giants '-buttons, fuzz-balls, &c., stained with every 
 ft
 
 AUTUMN SCENERY. 
 
 dye that can be seen upon the face of heaven, blue and silver 
 and gold and crimson, and some of them rising to near a foot 
 in height, and as large round as the crown of a man's hat ; and 
 many a time have we gathered an agaric whose gaudy colours 
 baffle all description, and so richly spotted, that for variety 
 and beauty of tint, the proudest flower that ever opened beneath 
 the sun must have bowed before it. We have seen them scat- 
 tered about the grassy glades of forests in broad round clusters 
 of yellow and white, as if an army of fairies had been contend- 
 ing, and startled by some human footstep in the midst of the 
 affray, had cast down their shields of gold and silver in their 
 affright, as they retreated somewhere into the deep and undis- 
 turbed solitudes. As for puff-balls, we have many a time seen 
 them larger than a man's head, weighing several pounds, and 
 when broken to pieces, covering many feet of ground. Far 
 away stretched acres of broad-leaved fern, now changing from 
 their glossy green into a deep brown russet ; while around them 
 gathered an armed host of thistles, the sport of every pass- 
 ing breeze that flew by, which plucked with its unseen hands 
 the proud plumes from their feathered helmets, and sent them 
 floating over the gathered lines of the banded fern. Blue be- 
 low bowed a little army of harebells ; their azure cups ever 
 moving as if they rang out a dying dirge for the departed Sum- 
 mer a low, mournful peal, which rings not upon mortal ears, 
 sounding over the graves of the buried flowers which sleep still 
 and mute below, each under its little hillock of fallen and faded 
 leaves. Above them waves some solitary woodbine ; its lonely 
 tendril rocking to and fro with a mournful motion, as if the 
 last flower it bore had lost its way, wondering where its Sum- 
 mer companions had gone, and afraid of being left alone in 
 such a changing solitude. All these, and many another object 
 rise before us, marking the solemn majesty of Autumn, and 
 throwing over the scene a gloomy kind of grandeur, causing us 
 to reflect how all that is beautiful in this world is subject to
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 fade, aud making us thoughtful while we witness the slow decay 
 of all that we so recently admired. But Autumn is not without 
 its pleasures, and it is only to one fond of solitude and musing 
 alone, that his mind would find in the falling leaves, images of 
 melancholy, and in the departed flowers recall scenes which the 
 heart sighs for in vain ; these are but the regrets that come 
 with after years, when we have lost dear friends whom we fondly 
 loved, and who, perhaps, many a time had been our companions, 
 when we wandered over such scenes in the sunshine and Sum- 
 mer of bygone years. 
 
 But now I am about to bring before you wild scenes and 
 solitary places, which I often rambled over in my boyish days 
 with my light-hearted schoolfellows, when we sallied out a 
 blackberrying and nutting and crab-gathering, visiting such 
 strange out-of-the-way places, as you never read about before in 
 any books but romances ; and such as you perhaps never saw 
 in your life, although I have, and am glad of it now, because it 
 enables me to tell you of many strange things, which but for 
 this, you might perhaps never have known. You can hardly 
 believe the pleasure it gives me to tell you about my boyish 
 days, and the adventures I met with in those vast forest-like 
 woods, and how freshly every scene rises before me whilst I 
 am writing, even to the very shapes of the trees, and the open 
 spaces between them, and the great gorse bushes that rose like 
 walls, all around the spot while every way stretched sharp 
 thorny bushes covered with sloes and bullaces, from which have 
 sprung all our beautiful varieties of damsons. Oh, what fine 
 wild hedge-rows we saw ! hedges which had never been cut 
 within the memory of man ! where the brambles had grown 
 one over another, year after year, until they covered the whole 
 of the waste land up to the very edge of the brown dusty high- 
 road so wide, so interlaced together that, would they but have 
 borne the weight, you might have driven three wagons a-breast 
 over miles and miles of bramble-berry bushes over a waste
 
 CORRINGHAM SCROGG8. 
 
 which no man could ever remember having been cultivated. 
 High up the bushes went, even to the summit of the hedge, 
 which engirded the field beyond, and down they came sloping 
 to the very foot of the roadside a vast embankment covered 
 every way with sloe and bullace-bushes, and brambles, on which 
 hung millions and millions of blackberries : where we could 
 fill our baskets in a very short time. Along the stone cause- 
 way, and up by Corringham, and far out it extended, until you 
 came to the wild unenclosed, primeval, uncultivated Scroggs. 
 
 And now, as I promised to do, I am going to describe to 
 you such a scene as you never beheld in your life a spot that 
 stands alone for I have never met with another that bears 
 any resemblance to it in all the hundreds of miles that I have 
 ridden and traversed on foot, throughout England. A wild 
 pathless place covering hundreds and hundreds of acres of land, 
 and that was never turned up by the ploughshare, or reclaimed 
 from its wild, savage, original state, since the day when England 
 first rose up, a vast island from the depths of the ocean. Here 
 grew hawthorns, so huge and old and grey and weather-beaten, 
 that they looked as if a hundred stems had grown twisted and 
 knotted together, and had become so hardened by time, that 
 they had at last got fused into a mass like iron, over which the 
 elements had no further power. Beside these grew great 
 gigantic crab-trees, their knotted stems overgrown with the 
 mosses and lichens which had gathered there for centuries, 
 and from the very decay of the parent bole shot up amid the 
 dead, white, withered, and skeleton boughs, a new tree that 
 overlooked the wilderness. At irregular distances, uprose some 
 mighty and majestic oak whose giant head had been struck by 
 the bolt of Heaven long centuries ago, and which had lived on 
 in spite of the thunder that clove its stem, and the light- 
 ning that singed its branches standing like the wreck and 
 monument of an old and forgotten world. And all around this 
 vast wilderness, of venerable and hoary trees, stretched a wide
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 pathless expanse of entangling underwood, where the hazel, and 
 the blackthorn, and the bullace, and the sloe, and the long 
 thorny bramble, and the armed holly, and the pointed gorse, 
 and the trailing woodbine, and the matted ivy, were blended with 
 the broom, and the deep umber of the Autumn-browned fern, 
 in one close impenetrable mass, so armed, and so impassable, 
 that it was only here and there we were enabled to force our 
 way, through the pointed and speary mass of underwood. We 
 saw trees covered with ripe crabs, and great round dark bullaces, 
 which we in vain attempted to approach, for unless armed in 
 mail from head to heel, we never could have got to where they 
 grew, without tearing ourselves to pieces and those who have 
 never seen such a sight will wonder, when I tell them that 
 there were hundreds of gorse bushes matted together from 
 twelve to fourteen feet in height that far away there stretched 
 one immense covert of sloe and bullace bushes, between which 
 hundreds of crooked branches shot up and trailed over, as if 
 they had been struggling years and years for the mastery, and 
 ever above this solemn wilderness hovered scores of great 
 birds, sharp-beaked hawks, and wide-winged kites, and great 
 gleads, and dusky ravens, and horned owls, that we have started 
 with staring eyes, from the hollow trees at noon-day, and that 
 went sailing above the wild underwood, and between the white 
 and withered branches of the trees ; many of them perhaps 
 having never been before startled by the sound of a human 
 voice. From out the shadowy barrier of the copse- wood rushed 
 many a wild, strange-looking animal, such as could only be 
 found in so old and solitary a place, the wild-cat, and the fox, 
 and the foumart, the stoat, and the weasel, and the martin, and 
 the quick-footed hare, and the grey badger, that run off 
 wondering who it was that had dared to invade his solitary 
 dominions ; and every now and then great hairy-armed bats 
 darted by on their leathern wings, started from the hollows of 
 the decayed trees, by the blows which we bad struck upon the 
 
 16
 
 THUNDER STORM. 
 
 stems and there was something so lonely and desolate which 
 hung about this strange, wild, solitary scene, that, when in the 
 midst of it, we never dared to wander far from each other ; for 
 there were no fields near it, but on either hand, woods went 
 stretching into woods, Springthorpe wood, and Somerby wood, 
 and Caistor wood, and White's wood, and Lea wood ; all running 
 into each other, with no other boundary than here and there 
 the deep dark water- course, whose banks were infested with 
 snakes, and whose waters were haunted with thousands of 
 newts, and frogs, and toads ; and in this wild, dreamy, old, out- 
 of-the-way woodland world, we were wont, when boys, to go and 
 gather nuts, and crabs, and bramble-berries, sloes, and bullaces, 
 and hips, and haws, and all those forest fruits which had grown 
 there wild, ages before the ancient Druids worshipped the old 
 oaks in our island perchance, before the painted and naked 
 Briton was startled in his hut at midnight, by the long howl 
 of the wolf, and the sound of the wild boar, sharpening his 
 glittering tusks in the moonlight, upon the iron stem of some 
 old misletoe-covered oak. 
 
 Grand and awful was the thunder storm which I once wit- 
 nessed on those scroggs ; just fancy such a spot darkened over 
 with deep thunder-clouds ! looking as if night was descending 
 upon the earth, ere the sun had accomplished little more than 
 half his journey across the sky. Imagine a blackness and a 
 stillness, amid which not a leaf appeared to move ; where even 
 the light down of the thistle rested upon the spot where it had 
 alighted, and the very air seemed not to breathe in its sleep. 
 Then in a moment this awful silence was broken by the loud, 
 sudden bursting of the deep-mouthed thunder, as if shaking 
 the veiy earth on which we stood, Over the vast wilderness 
 it went sounding, dark, and far away, to where in the distance the 
 trees looked as if resting upon a sky of ink ; so black and lower- 
 ing hung the thunder-clouds. Then came the blazing light 
 rung, making, for a moment, the whole forest scene red as the 
 
 * 17
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 mouth of a burning furnace ; it passed on, and all again settled 
 down into a deep twilight gloom. A few moments more, and a 
 silence more awful than the first seemed to reign over the scene. 
 Then came another peal of thunder, longer and louder than 
 the first. The foundations of the earth jarred, as they rocked 
 beneath it : and then in an instant there descended a heavy 
 deluge of rain, as if the floor of heaven had burst, and some 
 mighty river was rushing through its deep bed. Again the 
 wild woodland was lighted up for an instant, and in the dis- 
 tance the trees appeared resting upon a background of fire ; so 
 red and lurid was the glare of the lightning, that filled up the 
 whole scene. Heavier and heavier descended the rain, falling 
 like an avalanche upon the leaves and the boles of the trees ; 
 and when the loud artillery of heaven had again sent forth its 
 earth-shaking thunder, a mighty wind sprang up, and went 
 sweeping through the forest, making the old trees groan again, 
 as it tore through their grey, gnarled, and knotted branches. 
 Awful and startling was that contrast, from the silence which 
 but a few minutes before had rested on all around! Trees, 
 whose roots had been anchored in the earth for centuries, 
 seemed now struggling with the tempest to retain their ancient 
 footing ; while their branches clashed together as if in anger, 
 as they were bowed, and bent, beneath the overwhelming ele 
 ment. Although in a few minutes we were thoroughly soaked 
 to the skin, yet we still remained in an open space in the under- 
 wood, well knowing how dangerous it is to seek shelter under 
 a tree during a thunder-storm, as the lightning generally 
 strikes the objects that stand most prominent. Oh what a scene 
 it was ! I have witnessed many thunder-storms, but never 
 remember one like that which we saw, and were out in, on 
 Corringham Scroggs! 
 
 A rare haunt was this in Autumn for the Woodcock, 
 a bird which we seldom see in summer : which somehow seems 
 
 to make its appearance all at once, coming, nobody can tell how, 
 is
 
 WOODCOCK. 
 
 and contriving almost always to land in the night. As the wood- 
 cocks bring no luggage with them when they return from their 
 long sea voyage, they put up at the first inn they come near, 
 which is generally either a hedge, or a ditch ; and without dis- 
 turbing either boots or ostler, chambermaid or innkeeper, there 
 they take up their quarters until the following morning. They 
 mostly rest a day or two before they proceed further into the 
 country, for they have neither had the assistance of sail or 
 steam, to aid them in crossing the stormy sea nothing but 
 their poor little wings to beat up against the wind with, and 
 dash off the cold sea spray that is if it ever reached so high 
 as where they flew ; and you marvel that they have come so 
 far to feed only on such simple fare as insects and worms. The 
 
 WOODCOCK 
 
 leaves the woods in the evening twilight, where at such times 
 you may hear scores of them making a shrill noise, not unlike 
 that of the snipe. Poor little things! hundreds of them, 
 during the season, fall a prey to the fowler and the gunner. 
 
 B 2 19
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 The former captures them in his net ; and the latter fires at 
 them when resting on the ground, or on the trees, whenever 
 he can find an opportunity. They are a sadly persecuted race, 
 and I dare say, if they ever wish at all, would be glad to have 
 as strong a savour as the pole-cat, if it would but save them 
 from being shot at so often. You will not often meet with 
 them out of the woods in the daytime, whilst in the evening, 
 they are here and there and everywhere, breaking out like a lot 
 of boys who have just escaped from school ; and at this season 
 they breakfast, dine, and sup, like regular dissipated rakes, 
 who love to turn night into day. Their eyes seem to be of no 
 use to them in the daytime, excepting to enable them to see 
 when danger is at hand, for they can catch their prey in the 
 dark, feel a worm, or smell out an insect, without either the aid 
 of lamp or lantern ; like Dame Trott's cat, they can catch 
 whatever they pursue in the dark. The bill of the woodcock 
 is about three inches long, and, by all accounts, as sensitive to 
 feeling as the horns of the snail. Had man but such a nose in 
 proportion to his size, he would have to look a yard before him 
 to see the end of it. The plumage of this bird is a mixture 
 of black and grey, while the under parts are of a dim yellow, 
 with dusky streaks. It sometimes, though very rarely, remains 
 with us all the year round, when it builds a nest of moss, grass, 
 and dry leaves, within which it lays four or five eggs of a yel- 
 lowish white, spotted with brown and ash colour. The eggs 
 are somewhat larger than those of a pigeon. 
 
 Then, as I have before told you, these Scroggs were famous 
 for all of kipds Horned Owls, and White Owls, and Sparrow 
 Owls, and Little Horned Owls ; some of them with lai-ge heads, 
 looking, as they peeped through the trees, for all the world like 
 cats ; and unless you have seen young owls, you never saw such 
 white, little, woolly things in your life as they are ; and famous 
 mousers were these owls, I can tell you, nor would a farmer 
 drive one out of his barn for the world, for he knows that an 
 
 20
 
 OWLS 
 
 OWL 
 
 will destroy as many mice as the best cat he has got. Oh 
 how stupid an owl seemed, if we once started it from its roost 
 in the day time, when the sun was shining bright ; for then it 
 went blundering along, hitting its head first against one 
 thing, then against another, until sometimes it would fall 
 bang upon the ground; and then, perhaps, after receiv- 
 ing a sharp bite upon the finger, which drew the blood, we 
 were enabled to carry off the great, staring, stupid creature 
 in our hats. Then there was another owl with a smaller head, 
 which we were never able to make head or tail of, for it used 
 to spring up from out of the fern and long grass, fly a little 
 way, and then alight again ; but we never once saw it settle 
 upon a tree, and sometimes had our doubts whether it was an 
 owl at all, although the country people called it the Mouse- 
 hawking owl. 
 
 And now, having, I hope, prepared your minds for a 
 ramble in the woods, I will endeavour to carry you along 
 with me, and make you fancy, whilst you are reading these 
 pages, that we are out amongst the great oaks, and strolling 
 along wild alleys, between the trees. So, hurrah ! hurrah ! and 
 now, my boys ! come along, and let's be off upon our journey. 
 Bundle the books out of your school-bags: get the longest
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 hooked stick you can : fill your pockets with bread and cheese : 
 put on the worst clothes you can find ; then let us assemble 
 together with a loud huzza, before we set out for a day's 
 nutting in the woods. Let us, for once, forget all about school, 
 and our tasks, and hard sums, undone, and German-text copies 
 unfinished, and give up our minds to the joys of another glad 
 holiday ; to dream of the clusters of brown ripe nuts we shall 
 gather before night, and the rich banquet we shall find spread 
 for us, in some great hall of blackberries. 
 
 Here we are ! Bang through this open gap in the hedge 
 let us go we cannot make it worse ; for the sportsmen, with 
 their guns, have been here before us, and the mounted hunters 
 will come after us, as they chase the poor fox all helping to 
 make a rich harvest for the fagot gatherer ; so that it would 
 only be a waste of labour to repair the fence again before 
 Spring. " But we shall be taken up," squeaks some tiny boy, 
 with a weak voice ; " Then they may set us down again," ex- 
 claims some daring lad, with a bolder heart; for he well 
 knows, that many a boy has gone a nutting there years before 
 us ; and the kind old squire is too much of an Englishman 
 to disgrace his woods with notice to trespassers ; and the worst 
 we can do will be to trample underfoot the bracken, the bram- 
 ble, and the useless underwood. For my part, I have no love 
 for those purse-proud selfish proprietors, who will neither enjoy 
 the woods they possess themselves, nor permit others to spend 
 a merry day, now and then, within them. ^Esop had his eye 
 on such men as these, when he shadowed forth the " Dog in 
 the Manger," in his fable. 
 
 Now, before we separate, we must make a bargain: One 
 or two boys shall remain here, under this large oak tree, to 
 keep a guard over our basket of provisions, and to blow a loud 
 blast occasionally on the whistle, so that in case any of us 
 should get lost, we may know what point to steer for by that 
 
 sound. You see which way the shadows of the trees fall : 
 22
 
 NCTTIXG. 
 
 you cannot well mistake east from west now so off we go. 
 Hurra! hurra! " Oh dear!" exclaims one, " I've got fast in 
 a bramble bush ; " while his companion, twenty yards ahead, 
 is calling upon him, in vain, to come and admire the large 
 clusters of nuts, seven of which hang in a bunch on the highest 
 bough, where the top of the hazel catches the sunshine, far 
 beyond his reach. Little Dick has lost his shoe, somewhere 
 amid the dead leaves, that strew the bank beside the wood- 
 land brook, which he so boldly leaped 
 over; and his two companions have 
 set off after the red squirrel, which 
 they saw, with its long tail, bound, at one 
 leap, from the arm of the oak, to the 
 branch of the ash opposite ; and they 
 have left him to play at " Hunt the 
 Slipper" by himself, until they return. 
 O, what hundreds of nuts there are 
 here; never before did 
 any boy discover such a 
 spot, as where we are now 
 
 NUTTING IN THE WOOD.
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Such a place ! do come and look ! Not a soul has been here be- 
 fore us not a branch is broken not a tall tuft of grass trampled 
 down ! Now, as I hook down the boughs, do you lay fast hold 
 of 'em, and be sure and don't leave go ; for, if you do, you'll get 
 
 v ' t/ 
 
 such a switch over the face as you have n't had for many-a-day, 
 I can tell you. Did you ever see such a quantity of nuts together 
 in your life ! and such a size too ! Here's a bunch ! but I have n't 
 time to count how many there are on it ; and many of the nuts 
 are so ripe, that they actually fall upon the ground, if we 
 shake the bough. Were we not lucky to find out such a spot ? 
 and look how beautifully the sunshine comes down upon the 
 leaves ! We can see the light streaming through, as if we 
 were overhung by a green transparent curtain of silk. Do but 
 look what a height the ivy has climbed up that great tall ash 
 tree ! Wouldn't it be pleasant to lead a life like Robin Hood, 
 and always live in the woods, if it was all summer like this ; 
 and yet I should think he must often have been cold in the 
 winter-time, when the snow laid upon the ground. Oh ! I've 
 just found a nut with a double kernel in it. Such a fine one ! 
 Do eat this half it's so nice. Did you see that bird fly by 
 just now? It was a jay shouldn't I like to catch it ! Do come 
 here make haste never saw such a load of blackberries in 
 my life ! so ripe, and as big as damsons ! Now we have a feast ! 
 What's that a snake ? I think it 's an adder. Let 's be off. 
 Where 's my bag and nuts ? have you got my stick ? Do stop 
 a minute till I Ve found my cap. What a frightened chap you 
 are to run off that way ! I was n't going to leave my things 
 behind, just because we happened to see a poor harmless snake. 
 What a way you run without stopping for me, I say ! do you 
 know where we are ? I have n't heard the whistle sound for some 
 time have you? Whatever shall we do, if we get lost, eh? 
 I forget what he said about the shadows of the trees : let me 
 see ; if they fell behind us we were in the east ; no, that's not 
 
 it. Well, it must be the west then. But the sun seems to stand 
 21
 
 AN ALARM. 
 
 straight over our heads ; and I do feel so hungry, I would n't 
 mind giving a good handful or two of nuts for a slice of bread 
 and cheese. I don't know which way to turn : but I am not a 
 bit frightened. What's the use of talking about the " Babes 
 in the Wood" and blackberries now? 
 
 " I am sure we 're going wrong," exclaims some timid boy, 
 " it 's no use venturing further this way. There does n't seem 
 to be any road out here whatever should we do if a great wolf 
 were to jump up and show his teeth at us?" " Nonsense!" 
 answers his braver companion, "you know there are no wolves 
 now do n't you remember reading about them in the History 
 of England, and how so much a head was paid for destroying 
 them, in the time of the Saxons?" "But mightn't one or 
 two escape and breed in the woods, and then you know the old 
 wolves would show the young ones, where they used to hide 
 themselves ; and so they may have gone on for years concealing 
 themselves. We often hear of scores of sheep being devoured 
 in a night who knows but it may be the wolves that come 
 out of the woods to worry 'em?" "Nonsense come along 
 I tell you, there are no wolves now, and haven't been for 
 hundreds of years. Don't talk so." " Well, but if there are 
 no wolves, there may be something worse you know we 've 
 heard of lions, and tigers, and leopards escaping, and running 
 away out of wild beast shows ; and, of course, they always hide 
 themselves in the woods, and who knows whether they ever 
 catch them again or not ? I think we 'd better climb up into 
 one of these high trees, till they come to look for us, we shall 
 be safe there oh, dear, what's that running up there ? Look 
 it 's red with a great long tail like a lion. What's that ? " 
 " Why it's only a fox, which perhaps mistook you for a great 
 goose, as you are, to talk such nonsense. You talk about Robin 
 Hood why, if a wild cat was only to come and look at you, with 
 its great eyes, you'd be frightened to death; come along 
 
 with you, there 's a footpath here : it 's sure to lead somewhere, 
 
 M
 
 ATJTUMN. 
 
 let 's go straight along it listen ! do you hear that sound, it '9 
 the tinkling of sheep-bells, we 're not far from the side ; did n't 
 I tell you we were all right ? Look you, here we've come out 
 at an opening in the wood ; and see, there's a woman and 
 her child going along, and the spire of a church in the distance, 
 let us go up to the woman and inquire our way back." 
 
 Such was the adventure which befel two youths, many years 
 ago, who lost their way, one Autumn, whilst out nutting in the 
 woods. The poor woman and her child, whom they chanced to 
 stumble upon, had been out in the woods gathering blackberries : 
 and she, like Comus, in Milton's Mask, bearing that title (a 
 work which every boy ought to read who is fond of beautiful 
 descriptive poetry), led them back without any difficulty to 
 the large oak, from which they had started before they were 
 lost, for like Comus she knew 
 
 " Each lane and every alley green, 
 Dingle, or bushy dell of that wild wood, 
 And every bosky bourn from side to side, 
 Her daily walks and ancient neighbourhood." 
 
 A few pence amply rewarded her for her kindness, and with 
 the loss of a satchel and a hook-stick, they fell to, with an 
 excellent appetite, and enjoyed their rural repast of bread and 
 cheese and home-brewed beer; and he who had evinced so 
 much fear, sat down and ate heartily, and thought no more 
 about wolves, lions, tigers, and leopards, than if no such things 
 existed in the world ; and even when his hunger was appeased 
 and he was twitted a little by his companion, he leaped up 
 courageously, and brandisliing his little stick amid a score of 
 his schoolfelloAvs, said he should just like to see a wolf come 
 that was all they would see what he would do at which they 
 all laughed aloud, especially when one of them imitated the 
 growl of a tiger, at which our little hero, whose heart appeared 
 to be no bigger than a bumble-bee, dropped his stick, looked 
 very pale, and exclaimed, "Oh dear, what was that?'' But 
 
 26
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 remember, he was a very little lad, who had read so much about 
 wild beasts, and other things abroad, that they had almost 
 turned his head, and he had never before been lost in a wood ; 
 what he would have done had he been left alone we know not, 
 though we scarcely think that he would have had courage to 
 have gathered blackberries, like the babes in the wood in the 
 the ballad, but giving it up for a bad job, laid down at once, and 
 cried himself to sleep, fully expecting when he awoke, to find 
 that a score or two of little cock-robins had covered him care- 
 fully up with leaves ; for he was a terrible little coward, though 
 in the playground magnanimous as a mouse. He often amused 
 us, by showing how he could kill a lion with the first blow 
 make a tiger run off without so much as bidding him good 
 morning and as for an alligator, Waterton's feat of riding upon 
 the back of one, was not to be named beside what he would do, 
 if one happened to come marching up into the school-yard some 
 fine morning. Poor little fellow ! we had often meditated 
 a plan for losing him in the wood, watching him at a distance 
 to see what he would do, but not one of us was hard-hearted 
 enough to put such a plan into execution. 
 
 And now I will tell you an adventure which befel myself, 
 and two other boys, whilst we were out nutting in Warton 
 wood that large wood which I have before told you about in 
 my Summer Book and how we met with a real wild animal 
 that looked as savage, and was half as big as a young tiger. " I 
 know we shall see something," exclaimed a little timid boy, 
 who greatly resembled the one I have been describing. And a 
 minute or two after he came running up out of an avenue, or 
 opening between the trees, up which he had ventured a few 
 yards by himself, looking quite pale with fright, as he said, 
 " Oh ! yonder it is ; don't go, or you'll be killed, then what- 
 ever shall I do? I can never find my way home again by 
 myself ! " But we were not so easily daunted, and away we went 
 to look; and there it was sure enough, a large, savage -looking 
 
 27
 
 WILD CAT, 
 
 striped like a tiger. Oh ! you should have seen it ; such strong, 
 stout legs, and such a thick tail ! not tapering to a point like 
 that of a tame cat, but thick and bushy all the way up ; while it 
 showed its sharp teeth, and growled like a tiger; as if it 
 intended to spring upon us, as it stood with its claw fixed upon 
 a rabbit which it had killed. Nor would the bravest gamekeeper, 
 that ever traversed a forest, like to have met with such an 
 enraged wild cat as we saw, unless he had had his gun with 
 him, for it is the only really dangerous animal that is to be 
 found wild, in our English forests, in the present day, and it 
 would require a powerful and courageous dog to worry one of 
 them. The female forms her nest either in the hollow root 
 of some large old tree, some hidden opening in the rocks, or 
 concealed dell in the woody mountains, where she brings forth 
 four or five young ones, so savage, that they will spit at you 
 when they are only a few days old. The wild cat often conceals 
 itself amongst the darkest and thickest branches of the trees 
 when, should a poor bird chance to come within reach, it 
 springs upon it in an instant ; and there is no escaping from 
 the clutch of its hooked claws, and the deep, piercing bite 
 of its trenchant teeth. In former times the wild cat was very 
 common in the old English forests, and was in those days very 
 
 28
 
 WILD CAT. 
 
 difficult to destroy ; for when chased by the dogs, it could run 
 up a tree like a squirrel ; and you may readily imagine that a 
 bolt, or arrow, shot from a bow, oftener missed, than hit it, 
 when it was high up amongst the old gnarled boughs of the 
 trees. It was only in after days, when powder began to flash, 
 and bullets to whistle about its ears, that they were able to 
 thin the country of this ferocious animal. 
 
 Well ! there stood this savage-looking brute, with his paw 
 planted upon the dead rabbit, his eyes flashing like fire, while 
 he switched his thick tail to and fro, and growled, and set his 
 teeth at us, as if hesitating which he should spring upon first. 
 I need not tell you how we took to our heels ; one big boy, 
 however, having daring enough to throw a stick at the wild cat 
 before he started off after us. Off we went, straight a-head, 
 through ferns and brambles and bush-thorns, as if no such things 
 existed in the wood. We neither stopped to look at the fallen 
 acorns, nor the beautiful brown nuts, that hung so temptingly 
 over our heads; we left the ripe wild crabs untouched, and 
 paused not to gather either blue sloes, or black bullaces, from the 
 numerous bushes we hurried past; for bold as the bearing of 
 the bigger boy was, when he hurled the stick at the wild cat, 
 it no more resembled true courage, than that manifested by a 
 lad, who will dare to knock at twelve o'clock at night at a church 
 door, and the moment he has done so, be the foremost to run away. 
 Nor would it have been wisdom for him to have come to close 
 quarters with such an armed enemy ; for if the cat had once flown 
 at his face or throat, it might perhaps have left such a wound, 
 as would have been a long while healing, even had it done him 
 no more serious injury. But you must not think that every cat 
 you chance to see in a wood is a real wild one ; for many stray 
 cats are to be found in such spots, which have wandered from 
 home, or been lost, and they manage to breed and live well 
 enough in these wild places, abounding in birds and field mice 
 as they do. 
 
 29
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 But to return to our adventure. We run on, and on, until 
 we were fairly lost ; and had not chance at last led us into a 
 path, which had been made by the gamekeepers, when they 
 went round to look after the game, there is no knowing to 
 where we might have gone in the end : for I can tell you this 
 was a real old English wood, with oaks in it hundreds of years 
 old ; and a battle had been fought beside it above two hundred 
 years ago, between the soldiers of Cromwell, and the royalists, 
 who drew their swords for the cause of King Charles the First, 
 all of which you have no doubt read about in English history. 
 
 But, thank God, there are no such scenes now-a-days in 
 this country, and I trust that war will soon cease in every 
 corner of the world. Just fancy what a shocking sight it must 
 have been for us English boys to have beheld as we returned 
 from nutting, if when we had gained the outskirts of the wood, 
 we had seen a lifeless soldier here, a dead horse there ; further 
 on another bleeding, and wounded, and groaning piteously ; the 
 ground strewn over with arms swords, and spears, and pistols, 
 battered helmets, and coats of mail ; and far down in the valley 
 below, the pursued and the pursuers still in sight, their course 
 marked by death and desolation. Yet about two hundred years 
 ago, such sights were not uncommon in England ; and while we 
 read the glowing pages of history, we are too apt to forget how 
 much bloodshed and death how many sighs, and heart-rending 
 groans, and tears, it took to complete a single victory. Ever 
 bear in- mind also, that the boasted laurels which crown the 
 conqueror, have been gathered in fields of blood : that the 
 drums, and trumpets, and glittering arms, of our boldest sol- 
 diers, are but the shop-front decorations of men whose trade is 
 slaughter who are compelled to commit murder, when called 
 upon by the rulers of their countiy to do so. These are hard 
 truths for young minds like yours to digest, but they ai'e truths 
 that must be told : and although in all ages of the world, men 
 have been justly branded as cowards, who have refused to fight
 
 MARTEN. 
 
 in the defence of their country, still there have ever been found 
 amongst mankind, those who preferred war before peace who 
 have done all they could to get men to murder one another, 
 only for the love they had of fighting and this they have 
 miscalled glory. Wounds, and shrieks, and yells, and fields 
 flowing with human blood, and strewn over with the mangled 
 bodies of dead and dying men all these revolting horrors they 
 have dared to call glory ! and when hundreds of human bodies 
 have been thrown, like dogs, into one common pit, they have 
 called it a glorious grave ! Surely they might have found some 
 other name, if they had tried, more expressive of the truth : for 
 where ten soldiers have perished in the defence of their country 
 only, a hundred have been sacrificed by the ambition of such 
 cruel leaders as Napoleon. No ! ever remember, my boys, that 
 war at best, and under the most justifiable circumstances, is an 
 evil, which every good man would fain avoid. 
 
 Perhaps all of you are not aware, that there is an active 
 lively little animal, almost as beautiful as the squirrel, called the 
 Marten, which inhabits our woods, and is so wild that it is almost 
 impossible to tame it. And although this little creature is not 
 more than eighteen inches long, yet it can readily destroy 
 either a hare or a rabbit ; and as for rats, mice, and moles, it 
 can nip them up like winking. It would make you stare to 
 see a marten run up a tree, you never see it slip back an 
 inch, you behold it at the root one moment, and the next, it is 
 lost amid the thick foliage of the branches ; for you have no 
 idea of the hold it has with those long sharp claws. Only let 
 a bird nestle anywhere amongst the leaves, and up goes its big 
 round ears, when it opens its large eyes, and quick as thought, 
 it is upon the poor feathered victim in a moment, not even 
 leaving it time to say, " Bless me ! what a hurry you 're in ! " 
 for its sharp pointed mouth is at the throat of its winged cap- 
 tive in an instant. If once it gets concealed anywhere about 
 a farmyard, the old dame may bid good-by to her hen and
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 chickens ; for while there is one on the perch, or any where 
 near, the marten never knows what it is to go to bed without 
 its supper. The old cock may bluster and crow, and shake his 
 spurs and flap his wings, but it's all of no use; for if the 
 
 MARTEN 
 
 is not caught, he 's sure to go at last ; and if it finds good 
 quarters, it will make itself quite at home, erecting its nest in 
 the barn, or any ruined outshed, for it 's nowise particular, but 
 seems quite contented, even if it 's a hole in a tree, so long as 
 there is a duck or a goose left in the neighbourhood. And 
 then it sometimes brings up two or three families in a year, 
 each consisting of four or five little martens, who begin to pick 
 chickens almost as soon as they can run, and whose example is 
 followed by every succeeding brother and sister. For they 
 seem very fond of, boarding and lodging, near a large comfort- 
 able farmyard, making themselves as much at their ease, as if 
 they had come to spend a week there ; and would, no doubt, if 
 they wore stockings, have brought their knitting with them. 
 And then the fur on their skins is so long and soft and beau- 
 tiful, and above all, BO valuable, that could you but kill a
 
 THE OLD MISEK OF MARTIN. 
 
 marten for every chicken that is destroyed, strange as it may 
 sound, you 'd become a gainer by the loss. It has also a bushy 
 tail, about nine inches long, which is of great use in balancing 
 it when it runs among the long narrow branches. There used 
 to be one in the Surrey Zoological Gardens, which, when 
 driven out of its box, seemed as mad as a March hare ; but 
 how mad that is, it would puzzle me to tell you; though I can 
 assure you that it used to run out, and bang itself against the 
 wires, as if its head had been made out of the end of a poker. 
 
 But the name of the marten has recalled a queer, odd, old 
 fellow, whom I well knew, and who was called the Miser of 
 Martin ; for such was the name of the village in which he 
 lived. You never heard of such an old save-all as he was ; not 
 but what economy is highly to be commended; but when, like 
 him, persons have plenty, and yet deny themselves the com- 
 mon comforts of life, and only hoard their money up for the 
 sole love of money, without making any use at all of it, either 
 to benefit themselves or any body else, then it is that they be- 
 come miserable misers, like the old man of Martin. 
 
 And now I '11 tell you all about the old miser, who was a 
 downright nip-pinch, and too miserable to live. The old women 
 used to say that he would have skinned a flint to have saved 
 a halfpenny, if he had spoilt a sixpenny knife in doing it ; 
 and what made it all the worse was, that he had plenty of 
 money, and possessed several houses in the neighbourhood. 
 Nobody could ever remember him having had a new coat, and 
 the one he did wear he seldom put on properly, except in wet 
 weather, for he used to throw it over the shoulders, and tie it 
 at the front with a string, leaving the sleeves to dangle down. 
 If any body asked him why he wore his coat in that fashion, 
 he would answer, " to save the sleeves." He used to carry 
 his money sewed up in the waistband of his leather breeches, 
 until it came to twenty pounds, when he put it in the bank. 
 Nothing in the world would have induced him to have un-
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 ripped one of those stitches and taken a sovereign out when he 
 had once placed it there, until he had made up the appointed 
 sum of twenty pounds, when off he trudged to the bank. He 
 used to mend his own shoes, and do his own washing ; and you 
 could not have found an old-clothes dealer from Whitechapel 
 to Westminster, who would have given half-a-crown for the 
 whole suit he wore. Yet, miser as he was, he always kept 
 some little boy as a servant, and you may readily guess Avhat 
 sort of a place a lad had, under such a nip-pinching sort of a 
 master. The first question he always asked the boy was 
 " Could he whistle ! " for I must tell you the old miser used to 
 keep a barrel of small beer in his cellar, and he would never 
 permit a boy to go down and draw any of the beer, unless he 
 whistled all the time, while he himself stood listening at the 
 cellar-head; for he used to say, " he can't drink and whistle at 
 a breath." But he had one lad called Jack, who was too deep 
 for him, for Jack often contrived to have a playmate outside the 
 cellar-light, who used to thrust his head down and whistle while 
 Jack drunk; Jack, in return, whistling again while his com- 
 panion emptied a mug of beer. It strangely puzzled the old 
 miser, for a long time, to account for the barrel so soon becom- 
 ing empty ; but as Jack had occasionally thrown a jug or two 
 of water down the cellar-light, the old man, of course, con- 
 cluded that the barrel leaked ; so Jack and his companion 
 whistled the old man out of cask after cask, always contriving 
 to keep up a swim beneath the barrel. To save firing, he 
 used to make Jack boil bacon and potatoes sufficient to last for 
 three or four days, at one time ; and one day he sent Jack ten 
 miles to a market-town, 011 an errand, and gave him a penny to 
 get his dinner at a cook-shop : " You'll make a very good shift 
 with a penny Jack," said he, "for you're a fine growing lad 
 and don't want much meat; I would give you more, only I 
 have no change ; and as to breaking into a sixpence, you know 
 it 's a tiling I never do Jack, for if you once begin to change
 
 THE OLD MISER OF MARTIN. 
 
 silver, it makes sad havoc with your accounts, and is sure to 
 throw you wrong ; halfpence you may remember. I dined there 
 once myself Jack, for a penny, and a very good dinner I had. 
 I '11 tell you how I went on : I ordered a pennyworth of pota- 
 toes, and they brought me three fine, nice, mealy ones, as ever 
 you 'd wish to see ; then I begged a spoonful of gravy, which 
 they gave me, and very delicious it was Jack ; mustard, salt, 
 and pepper, always stand upon the table for any body to help 
 themselves as likes, and there 's no charge for that ; and you '11 
 generally find a little ketchup in the cruet, but it 's best to look 
 round before you empty it, as they might grumble when you 
 only pay a penny for your dinner. Then you 11 see a beautiful 
 large jug of toast-and-water on the table, Jack, with a piece of 
 toast in it as big as both your fists, that's for the customers, 
 there 's no charge for that, Jack, and when you 've had a hearty 
 drink, if you don 't feel as if you 'd had sufficient dinner, wipe 
 your hands clean on the table-cloth, then take out the toast and 
 eat it. That's the way to dine for a penny, Jack. It's true 
 the man grumbled a bit, and said he 'd thank me to take my 
 custom somewhere else another time, but I paid him what he 
 charged, and what more would he have had ; besides, Jack, it 
 saved my changing a shilling. Now be a good lad, mind what 
 I Ve said to you, and take care of the money you have got to re- 
 ceive, which is ten and three pence halfpenny ; then, perhaps, 
 I may give you the halfpenny for yourself when you come back, 
 Jack, or save it for you, and if I do, you know that'll make 
 three halfpence I owe you, Jack ; and four three halfpence^ 
 make sixpence, and two sixpences make a shilling, and it only 
 takes twenty shillings to make a pound. You'll soon be a rich 
 man, Jack." Jack, however, had his journey of twenty miles for 
 nothing, not so much as getting the promised halfpenny. He 
 had knocked, he said, but, there was no answer. 
 
 " Perhaps they 've run away in my debt," exclaimed the old 
 miser, " must go myself to-morrow morning, the first thing 
 
 c 2 35
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 to lose such a sura would ruin me ; I shall leave you out 
 a piece of bread, Jack, and as there are plenty of black- 
 berries on the hedges now, you can run out for an hour and 
 dine like a prince. Be sure and lock the door, and take the 
 key with you, for fear anybody should run away with the flitch 
 of bacon and the ham, Jack ; and when you dine off the black- 
 berries, Jack, you may as well take the pig with you, it may 
 pick up a few acorns, and you can drive it into the sty when 
 you get back, it will save giving it a meal." So the old man 
 took his stick in his hand, and with a slice of bread in his 
 pocket, and a small piece of cold fat bacon, set out on his 
 journey, resolving within himself that if he did not get the money, 
 he would not be so extravagant as to lay out a penny in dining 
 at the cook's shop. After a walk of ten miles the old man 
 found that as the son had gone to the village where he resided, 
 he had taken the money with him, intending to leave it. 
 "Dear me," said the old man, "if he should happen to call 
 while Jack 's at his dinner what a bad job it 11 be I must go 
 back again directly." "It's a bad job both ways," said the 
 man who had sent his son with the money, " for the person 
 he 's gone to see has called here since he went, and has bought 
 and paid for the horse which he has gone to ask him to come 
 and look at ; and what is worse, he wants it home to-day, it 's a 
 neighbour of yours, farmer Swift, you may ride it home if you 
 like." The old miser consented, after having obtained the 
 twopence to pay the toll-gate. While the old man was trotting 
 leisurely along, occasionally nibbling at his brown bread and 
 fat bacon, and wondering whether the son would pay Jack or 
 not, or whether Jack would be in or not, or if Jack had 
 neglected to lock the door, and anybody had stolen the bacon 
 and ham while he went out to his sumptuous repast, or whether 
 the pig had run away, or the barrel again leaked, or Jack in 
 his ignorance, if paid, had chanced to take a bad shilling : 
 while these and divers other thoughts floated through the old 
 
 36
 
 THE OLD MISER OF MARTIN. 
 
 miser's brain, bang went a fowling-piece, and off started the 
 horse, soon leaving the old man's hat a quarter of a mile 
 behind. Off sped the horse at full gallop, and while the old 
 miser pulled with all his might and main at the reins, snap 
 went the string which secured his coat, and as his arms were 
 not in the sleeves, after his hat it flew. " Oh dear ! oh 
 dear ! " exclaimed the old man, " hat and coat gone, I can 
 never afford to replace them." On went the horse, until he 
 came just within reach of the miser's own door, when seeing 
 the young man who had brought the money, leaning and 
 looking out of his own window, the remembrance of the ten 
 and threepence halfpenny, nerved him with more than ordinary 
 courage, and twining the reins tight round his wrist, he jerked 
 at them with all his strength, suddenly pulling the horse up 
 on one side of the road, when down the poor animal fell, as if 
 by a shot, and broke both its knees on a stone-heap. Out 
 came the man's son who had sold the horse out rushed Jack 
 with a rasher of ham, and a slice of bread in his fist out 
 flocked a dozen of the neighbours, all exclaiming that the 
 horse was ruined and up rode farmer Swift at the same time, 
 declaring that it was not now worth as many shillings as he 
 had given pounds for it that very morning. Farmer Swift 
 threatened to sue the young man's father for the value of the 
 horse and the young man threatened the old miser with a 
 law-suit for breaking the horse's knees while the old man 
 threatened that he would break Jack's bones for cutting into 
 the forbidden ham and Jack's father, who stood by, threatened 
 to drag the old miser through a fish-pond if he dared to lay a 
 hand on his lad, while he up and told them, how the old miser 
 had sent Jack twenty miles the day before, and only allowed 
 him a penny to pay his expenses with. Added to this, the 
 instant Jack turned out the pig, it set off like a race horse, for 
 it was nearly as gaunt as a greyhound, and where it had run to 
 no one knew. How the old miser got out of his troubles you will 
 
 37
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 readily guess, when I tell you that it was twelve months beyond 
 the usual time before he next took his twenty pound to the 
 bank and ever after that time he went by the name of 
 " Penny wise and Pound foolish." 
 
 Glorious news was that which arrived from Thonock in the 
 Autumn, when uncle sent word he was going to gather in his 
 apples; for, I can assure you, his was something like an orchard, 
 not a little bit of a place shoved up in a corner, as if to be out 
 of the way, but a great, large, square, wide, grass field, filled 
 everywhere with all kinds of old English fruit trees. Then, 
 you never saw such green, old-fashioned, strange looking trees 
 in your life as some of them were, for they were knock-kneed 
 and in-kneed, and bow-legged and hump-backed and round- 
 shouldered ; some leant on this side, and some on that ; some 
 had to be held, and others supported, by cratches ; and many 
 and many had their branches so heavily laden with fruit, that 
 strong props were compelled to be put beneath them to sup- 
 port the weight. I cannot tell you half the names of the 
 apples, and pears, and plums which grew in that old- 
 fashioned orchard. There were codlins, and russets, and sum- 
 merins, and rennets, and golden pippins, and ripstou pippins, 
 and lemon pippins, and the whole family of pippins ; and large 
 bell-tongued pears, and burgamots, andwindsors, and jargonelles, 
 and old men's, and old women's, and other sorts I cannot tell you 
 of. Then there were plums, purple, and yellow, and green, 
 and red, some of them with such thick stones in that nothing 
 less than a hammer would break them ; together with rows 
 of damson trees, which, like the plums, had so many odd 
 kinds of names that I dare not venture upon enumerating 
 them. And, oh ! what a treat to us boys was the morning 
 which followed a windy night ; what baskets and baskets full 
 of all kinds of fruit did we then gather ! There they lay 
 upon the long grass, hundreds and hundreds, higgledy-pig- 
 gledy together here a red and rosy-cheeked apple, with the 
 
 38
 
 THE ORCHARD. 
 
 sunny side uppermost, reposing by a golden goose-egg a 
 plum so ripe that it made your mouth water only to look at 
 it. But light were the breakfasts, and dinners, and suppers, 
 which we partook of in those days in the large thatched 
 farm-house ; for what boy was there ever yet found who 
 cared about bread and butter, and meat and puddings, and 
 such like things, while living in a land abounding with ripe 
 apples, and mellow pears, and plums that melted like honey 
 in the mouth? But if the mere windfalls afforded us so 
 much pleasure, and furnished us with such a feast, just 
 fancy what a treat it was to gather in the real fruit har- 
 vest of the orchard to ascend ladders and clamber up 
 
 great branches and climbing 
 to the very topmost boughs 
 of the trees with our baskets, 
 there to pluck with our own 
 hands the fruit which we had 
 so often coveted when seen at 
 a distance : 
 
 GATHERING APPLES,
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 which we had watehed day after day changing from green 
 to a delicate pale yellow, while on one side the sun threw 
 in a few of his richest touches of finishing red then to 
 know whilst up there, we could eat whichever we chose 
 that we were sole king of the tree that the apples were our 
 subjects, and that every one we reigned over we could devour 
 at our royal will, and pleasure and then, whilst giddy at the 
 very thoughts of the power which we possessed, to come down, 
 head foremost, basket, apples, and all, and lie sprawling amid 
 the deep grass at the foot of the tre,e? Then there were the 
 journeys to and fro into the great store-rooms of the old farm- 
 house basket full after basket full to be carried up and 
 spread out and arranged in rows, not one of which must 
 be either battered or bruised, for they were set apart to 
 be kept through all the long winter. In them we saw 
 future pies and unboiled puddings, the comfortable windings 
 up of many a cold dinner ; and if we did contrive to give 
 one a bruise, and another a pinch, and to let one of extra 
 size and beauty now and then fall, we knew that on some 
 future day, when we went up with aunt, we could pick out 
 the very identical apple again, and then we had only to show 
 her how this was going, and that one would not keep, and 
 to throw in an additional "May n't I have them, Aunt?" 
 and so, by such pardonable policy, to become sharers of that 
 rich wintry store? In vain did kind old aunt say that so much 
 fruit was injurious, that they bred worms, and caterpillars, and 
 all other kinds of creeping things ; her kind words were but 
 wasted, for, had all the worms " i' the Nile " produced the 
 flavour which that fruit did, and been in all the year, we verily 
 believe that our first inquiry would have been, " How far 
 is it to Egypt ? " Then there was the pleasure of filling the 
 baskets and lading the cart, and putting in the peck, and 
 half-peck, and quartern measures, and going Avith John, the 
 foreman of the farm, to a neighbouring town, the next market- 
 
 40
 
 GOING TO MARKET. 
 
 day, to sell bushels of the fruit, which uncle had neither room, 
 nor use for ; and then John was so kind, and used to pick up 
 some old acquaintance whom he knew, and so give them a lift 
 on their journey in the market-cart ! Then there was the 
 pleasure of going with John from shop to shop after we had 
 sold all our fruit, which we sometimes did in one lot to a 
 large huckster, to go with him to the grocer's, to the 
 harness-maker's, and to the cooper's, to call at the maltster's, 
 and the hop-dealer's, then to dine in the parlour of the Old 
 Rising Sun, and, when all was done, call at the mill on our 
 way home, and bring with us the large sack of flour ! Then, 
 as we rode along, to start a pheasant here, and a partridge 
 there to see the rabbits running into their burrows in the 
 sand-banks beside the dark plantation to see the hares 
 limping across the silent stubble-fields, which were now 
 cleared of the corn-harvest and behold the swine feeding 
 upon the ripe fallen acorns, under the huge old oak-trees, 
 that threw their broad gnarled branches over the forest-paths 
 were a part of the many pleasures which I have found 
 when residing with my uncle in the country ! 
 
 I remember one of our moonlight adventures, in Autumn, 
 was to capture a badger, which had often been seen in the 
 neighbourhood of that very wood which J have described 
 before, and we had never been able to discover the hole in 
 which it hided, until it was pointed out to us by an old wood- 
 man. Now a badger is, no doubt, the bravest animal that can 
 be found in England, in a wild state, and it takes a firstrate 
 dog to master him ; and I have, before now, seen the badger 
 conquer five or six dogs, when that cruel amusement of badger- 
 baiting was so common in the country, about a quarter of a 
 century ago. You will see, by the engraving, that he looks 
 as if he could t tke his own part ; but I cannot describe to you 
 the strength of his jaws, those of a dog are not to be compared 
 to them ; once let a 
 
 41
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 BADGER 
 
 bite, and it is no easy matter to escape his hold, until he 
 pleases to leave loose. We had borrowed a strong sack, which 
 we placed in the badger's den, leaving the mouth of the 
 bag outward, and open, and keeping it in that position, by 
 bending a few light twigs across it. Then we had a run- 
 ning noose at the mouth of the sack, so that the moment 
 his head struck the end of the bag, the opening was drawn up 
 tight, and became closed, just as your own school-bag would do, 
 if it was made with a running- string round the mouth, and a 
 heavy stone dropped into it ; the mouth of the bag, you know, 
 would close up at once- But I must tell you that we had first 
 watched the badger out of his hole, for it is his custom to hide 
 in his den the whole of the day, and only come out to feed in 
 the night, when he devours whatever he can find, either frogs, 
 mice, roots, nuts, eggs, or birds if he can catch them asleep, 
 great beetles, or even a snake, for nothing seems to come amiss 
 to him. You never saw such a queer hole as he had made to 
 get into his apartments underground ; first, it went deep down, 
 then it turned to the left, then went still deeper, bending to 
 
 42
 
 BADGER. 
 
 the right, and seeming to go a little upward. You would not 
 have caught us feeling and poking about his house in the way 
 we did, had we not have watched my gentleman go out to his 
 supper no, no, we had seen one of his brethren before that 
 day, and well knew what wonders he could work with those 
 powerful jaws of his. 
 
 Having made the strings of the sack fast to the roots of 
 some strong underwood, away we went with our couple of 
 lurchers, making a wide circuit, that we might get beyond his 
 haunts, for we had no wish to encounter him on his way home. 
 We then set up a loud halloo, at which both the dogs began to 
 bark had you but have heard the noise we made, you would have 
 thought Bedlam had broken loose. I '11 be bound the badger 
 had never heard such an uproar before in his life ; and that he 
 thought it-boded him no good; and perhaps, poor fellow, before 
 he had finished half his supper he began to lift up his strong 
 black feet, and putting the best leg foremost, turned his sharp 
 snout towards home. Perhaps, when, he had gone a little way, 
 our shouting and hallooing might cease for a few moments ; and 
 he would pause beneath the shadow of the dark underwood, 
 and say to himself, " Dear me, it 's very hard that I cannot 
 have one meal in peace in twenty-four hours ; here have I, like 
 a great silly broc as I am, been running away without having 
 finished my supper, passing by a nice little shrew-mouse in my 
 hurry, and two or three such fine plump frogs, and a beautiful 
 desert of acorns, and hazel-nuts, real brown shellers, and all 
 because of a little noise which is nothing after all, and but, 
 bless me ! it comes nearer ' bow, bow,' hey, I wish I had hold 
 of you, I would change your note, but there seems too many 
 to one ; and, oh dear ! they are nearly upon me, bless me ! 
 how they come rattling through the bushes ; oh dear ! I wish 
 niy legs were a little longer, but a few more yards will do it, 
 under this furze bush, and through these prickly brambles, how 
 they do lug my poor rough jacket, now then beyond this fern, 
 
 43
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 and hurrah for my snug home under the bank ; I wish you 
 may catch me now" and bang he went into the mouth of the 
 bag ; and what he said when he found himself caught in such 
 a trap, I cannot undertake to tell you, but this I know, he had 
 never been in such an apartment before in his life. 
 
 Oh ! did n't he kick about ! we could trace his sharp snout 
 bobbing here and there inside the sack, as we stood in the 
 moonlight; and after we had tied him up more securely, then 
 came the question of who should carry him home ? He might 
 eat his way out ; might bite us on the back, if we carried the 
 bag over our shoulder ; scratch a hole through the sack with his 
 long sharp claws, and prove, to our sorrow, that we had for once 
 caught a " tartar." There was only one safe plan, and that 
 was to fasten a string to the bottom of the bag, and so carry 
 him between us, leaving him to do his worst whilst he swung 
 in the middle although I much question whether we should 
 not have thrown down the sack, and run off, had we but have 
 seen his black and white head, and sharp snout thrust through. 
 When we reached home, we were as much puzzled as ever : to 
 leave the poor badger in the bag would be to smother him 
 alive ; then how were we to let him out ? he might fly at us, 
 bite a piece out of our hand while we undid the noose. Sup- 
 posing we shut him up in the stable, or in the hay-loft, then 
 how were we to get out without hindeiing the badger from running 
 out at the same time ? Something, however, must be done, 
 and I undertook to liberate the poor beast in the stable, on 
 condition that I should have the two dogs with me ; this was 
 acceded to. I then mounted astride one of the partitions which 
 divided the stalls in the stable, and having loosened the string 
 at the mouth of the bag, before I climbed up, held it fast by 
 the cord which we had placed at the bottom of the sack, to 
 carry it by, drew up the bag with the mouth downward, and 
 out came the badger upon the straw on the stable floor. His 
 first act was to bite one of the dogs, which began to whine and
 
 BADGER. 
 
 cry out piteously, and the boy who owned the pjor brute, threw 
 open the stable door, to save his dog from being wonied, when 
 out rushed the badger in an instant ; under the shadow of the 
 hedge he ran, in the direction from whence we had brought 
 him, and we never set eyes on him after; and glad enough we 
 were, I can assure you, to escape as we did, without having 
 had a taste of his sharp teeth. When taken young, the badger 
 becomes as tame as a dog, will play with children, and show 
 an affection towards those who are kind to him. Badger- 
 baiting was very common when I was a boy : and nothing 
 could be more cruel, both to the dogs that were set to " draw 
 him " out of the cask in which he was placed, and to himself, 
 though he seldom failed to punish his tormentors. But this 
 barbarous sport is rarely ever heard of now, and I am glad of 
 it, for all such revolting exhibitions only brutalize the mind of 
 boys, and make them grow up into cruel men. Badger-baiting 
 and cock-fighting are no longer heard of in England ; and, 
 in a few more years, they will only be remembered as the 
 brutal amusements of a past age, as the bear-garden cruelties 
 of Elizabeth's days are thought of now. 
 
 Although many of the flowers, like the singing-birds, have 
 fled with Summer, a few still remain behind, and amongst 
 these the Autumn crocus, from which the saffron used hi 
 dyeing is prepared. The wild mint is also in full flower, and 
 a more delicious perfume we cannot stumble upon, than a 
 whole bed of it in some moist shadowy place in the woods ; 
 nor must we forget the wild thyme, which is in full blossom 
 on hundreds of little rounded hillocks and dry mounds, where 
 it furnishes the bee with many a load of honey, after hundreds 
 of the fragrant beauties, which ornamented our fields and 
 woods, are withered and dead. Then we have multitudes of deli- 
 cate harebells still left behind, so frail, and blue, and fair, and 
 beauitful, shaking their bells, beneath every breeze that blows, 
 and looking the more lovely because they seem to stand
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 almost alone. And now the heaths and hill-tops, that before 
 looked to the eye so brown and barren, burst forth in all their 
 bloom and beauty, for they are covered everywhere with the 
 purple and crimson hues of the ling and heather. Oh ! what 
 a luxury it is still to be able to walk over acres and acres of 
 these beautiful wild flowers ! to see the rose-tinged purple 
 heather stretching away for miles, as we have done in some 
 places, sleeping like a great sea of flowers, whose waters were 
 without either wave or ripple. Then there is the large ox- 
 eye daisy, which may still be found in hundreds of fields and 
 wild lanes. The common golden rod, and the yellow hawk- 
 weed, which look not unlike the hen and chicken. Daisies 
 have not yet disappeared from the landscape. On the borders 
 of rivers and streams we still find the beautiful arrow-head; 
 with its long, green, pointed, arrow-ended shaped leaf, and its 
 pearly-white three-leaved flower, from the centre of which it 
 is ever peeping with its eye of purple and gold. Nor must 
 we forget that beautiful little inhabitant of the cornfield, the 
 deep rose-coloured pheasants-eye; which was called by the 
 dames of ancient times the rose-a-ruby, and which is supposed 
 to resemble the red rim round the eye of the pheasant : but 
 of all our Autumn favourites none excel in beauty the little 
 eye-bright; it is a cheerful-looking, bright, little flower, 
 seldom growing above six or seven inches high, looking 
 not unlike a beautiful white insect, marked with green and 
 gold, resting on its dark back-ground of deep serrated 
 leaves the very fairy queen of all Autumn flowers. In 
 the gardens, too, we have the beautiful yellow amaryllis, 
 and many varieties of Michaelmas daisies, some of them 
 rising to the height of several feet ; and there a few of 
 the large, broad, yellow sunflowers still linger, round which 
 the bees hover all day long. In the hedgerows, too, still 
 blooming amid the green and crimson berries, we find the 
 flowers of the woody nightshade, or bitter-sweet; with the leaves 
 
 43
 
 FOREST FRUITS. 
 
 of its purple flowers bent backward, and its pointed centre 
 projecting out, not unlike the top of a Chinese pagoda but 
 beware of tasting those ripe and crimson berries, for, though 
 pleasing to the eje, and not at first even unpleasant to the 
 taste, the consequences that follow are serious ; and were you 
 to eat many of them, I have little doubt they would produce 
 death : but more fatal still is the deadly nightshade or dwale, 
 whose berries are first green, then afterwards a glossy black, 
 and are the deadliest poison that can be found in England, 
 for the poison which one berry contains is sufficient to kill 
 any person, and only this summer (1846) two or three persons 
 died in London in consequence of eating the berries of the 
 deadly nightshade. Never, on any account, lift these false 
 and tempting berries to your lips ; they resemble many things 
 which you will find in life, pleasing to the eye, but when once 
 partaken of, leaving a bitterness upon the palate, and a sad 
 sinking about the heart. They resemble vice, clothed in the 
 garb of virtue, presenting to the unpractised eye a pleasing 
 exterior, but containing within only " dust and bitter ashes." 
 T must also warn you against those coral currant-looking 
 bunches which hang upon the mountain ash, adding so much 
 to the richness and beauty of the Autumn-coloured woods: 
 these, also, are of a poisonous nature, and are commonly 
 known in the country by the name of " poison-berries ; " but 
 in the country the little children, who string them and wear 
 them for neck-beads, seldom or ever venture to taste of them, 
 for as soon as they can understand any thing they are taught 
 that they are poisonous. Nor shall I attempt to describe the 
 bilberries or cranberries, lest you should mistake them for 
 the nightshade ; neither would I advise you to gather them, 
 unless some one is with you, who has a thorough knowledge 
 of the difference. Sloes and bullaces, which have stones in 
 them, and grow on branches covered with sharp-pointed 
 thorns, you cannot be mistaken in, any more than you can iu 
 
 47
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 the berries of the wild rose and hawthorn, called hips and 
 haws. These, together with wild crabs and blackberries, are 
 perfectly innoxious, and free from all hurtful qualities. Num- 
 bers of butterflies are still hovering about ; the bee still con- 
 tinues to visit the few flowers that remain behind; and occa- 
 sionally we hear a bird or two singing somewhere amongst the 
 bushes, like the last lingering notes that swelled the great 
 anthem of Summer ; and the deep humming with which the 
 air was lately filled has now all but died away. Each week the 
 sun rises later from his golden bed in the east, and each 
 evening sinks earlier into the western chambers of heaven ; 
 but still the sunsets and twilights of Autumn are not excelled 
 in beauty by any within the whole circle of the year. 
 
 During a walk in Autumn, almost every boy must have 
 observed the web of the 
 
 GARDEN-SPIDER, 
 
 M
 
 GABDEN SP1DEB. 
 
 which is thrown from hedge to hedge, and bush to bush, across 
 every narrow lane, hanging in scores over ditches, wherever a 
 thistle, or a reed, or a stout blade of grass can be found, to form 
 a pillar on which to fasten this wondrous piece of mechanism. 
 In the morning, by placing yourself in a favourable light, you 
 may see the little weaver work, from the first commencement 
 of forming its net, until every spoke and circular mesh is 
 woven as accurately as if it had been marked out by a pair of 
 compasses. Having first spun a long line, or thread, she 
 leaves it floating in the air until, blowing across, it attaches 
 itself to some object opposite. When it has once caught she 
 crosses it twice or thrice, each time adding to its thickness, 
 until she has formed what may be called the cable, to which she 
 attaches her web. This cable, you will often observe, hangs 
 in a sloping line, which is caused by the current of air not 
 blowing it straight across. Sometimes, however, the spider 
 will throw out two or three of these floating lines, only select- 
 ing the one, for a cable, which she considers most favourable to 
 her purpose. To test its strength, she not only pulls at it 
 with her legs, but, suspended by a line, drops down the whole 
 weight of her body from it ; and you may often see her, while 
 applying this test of its strength, swinging to and fro, like 
 the pendulum of a clock. To strengthen the frame, in the 
 centre of which her star-shaped net is woven, she attaches to 
 the ends of her strong cables additional lines in a triangular 
 position, as you would place the two broad ends of the letter 
 V on two opposite walls in a room, that you might have a 
 double attachment before you drew a string across from each 
 of the points ; but you will understand this by examining the 
 engraving of the netted web of the common garden spider. 
 In forming the centre of this curious geometric net, the spider 
 has no other measure but her limbs, by which to lay out the 
 accurate distances of these wheel-like spokes, and rounded 
 meshes, by which they are intersected. These meshes always 
 
 D 49
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 vary according to the size of the spider : through the centre 
 of the larger ones you might thrust a black-lead pencil without 
 breaking a line; while, in the smaller ones, even the passing of 
 a straw might disarrange the web. The spider generally, 
 though not always, takes up her station in the centre of this 
 wheel ; when this is not the case, she may usually be found 
 concealed beneath a leaf, or stationed at some remote corner 
 of her house of business, ready in a moment to pop upon any 
 casual customer who may chance to call in. Sometimes, 
 however, a great, blundering blue-bottle will go in at the front 
 door and out at the back, without so much as stopping to say, 
 " Good morning," or to shake hands. We have been the 
 more particular in describing the construction of this spider's 
 web, as it is so common at this season of the year, that it 
 must be familiar to you all. 
 
 Every boy, whether residing in town or country, must be 
 well acquainted with Father Long-legs. He is almost as 
 familiar a visitor as the common house-fly ; day or night he 
 walks into our apartments without ceremony, and if the candle 
 is alight, he generally contrives to thrust one of his long legs 
 into it ; then, after making a few more circles round the table, 
 he tries the other foot, which has a little grease upon it, to see 
 how that will burn-; and so he proceeds, unless he is unfor- 
 tunate enough to get fast in the tallow, burning down every 
 one of his long legs to the stump. We never see father 
 long-legs walk, as he balances himself with his wings, but he 
 reminds us of a boy practising his first steps in the stilts. 
 Up goes one long leg, then he lurches a little to one side, 
 down comes another, while his light body, as if settling itself 
 into a proper balance, continues in motion ; and just when you 
 think he is really about to rest himself, off he goes again, 
 all legs and wings, no bad representative of our Mr. Nobody, 
 who has more mischief laid at his door within twelve months, 
 than a whole school put together in the same space of time 
 
 50
 
 INSECTS 
 
 was ever guilty of. What numerous thrashings has that 
 Mr. Nobody saved us from. Talk about what our rela- 
 tions do for us ! they are not to be named on the same 
 day with Mr. Nobody ; for he bears all denies nothing 
 and the best of it is, never murmurs. What books he has 
 torn what quantities of ink he has spilt what windows he 
 has broken ? If only one-millionth part of what is said of him 
 is true, there never was such a reckless scapegrace such a 
 mischievous young rascal as that Mr. Nobody ! But I was 
 telling you about the crane-fly, or father long-legs, when Mr. 
 Nobody came into my head, and you all of you know what 
 a large family this jenny spinner has, for you must many a 
 time have started a whole colony of legs, when you have been 
 wandering out in the fields, and sent them skipping by thou- 
 sands together over the tufted grass, putting, as we may say, 
 their best foot foremost, and seeming to say, in their un- 
 gainly flight, as they jostled against one aiiotl^r, " I wish 
 you would just move that long shaky leg of yours an inch or 
 two aside, and let me pass, will you ? What do you mean 
 by straddling out that way, and taking all the road up ? If I 
 had but my shoes on, and I was n't afraid of injuring my poor 
 leg, I would fetch you such a kick that would send you into 
 the middle of net week, that I would ; " and away they go, 
 one over the other, as if it was a matter of necessity that they 
 should be constantly in motion to keep out of one another's 
 way. You would be delighted to see mother long-legs deposit 
 her eggs in the earth. Away the old lady flies with her bas- 
 ket full of eggs, dropping one here and another there, wherever 
 she can make a hole in the earth ; and you know what a sharp- 
 pointed tail the old lady has got, and you would laugh if you 
 could but see her with her back stuck up, as she goes from place 
 to place depositing her little black eggs everywhere, which look 
 not unlike grains of gunpowder. You have no idea what a 
 ravenous lot of little long-legs are left behind to provide for 
 
 D 2 51
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 themselves, as well as they can, when the Spring comes ; for 
 before they can either run or fly, while they remain under 
 ground in the grub-state, they devour all before them ; they 
 eat away the roots of the grass and the flowers ; the corn be- 
 fore it has pierced through the earth, and sometimes whole 
 fields are destroyed by these hungry little long-legs, before they 
 have even got a foot to run, or a wing to fly with. Hundreds 
 of acres of pasture-land in one county have been destroyed by 
 them, and left as brown and barren, and devoid of vegetation, 
 as the smooth grassless sands upon the sea-shore. 
 
 Eveiy boy has seen the little white maggots which are found 
 in cheese, and which are the cleanest and most elegantly formed 
 of all the class of insects.while in a grub-state; nor need any one be 
 afraid to eat them, for they are perfectly harmless. But the most 
 wonderful thing about the Cheese-hopper is the height to which 
 it can leap, which is nearly thirty times the length of its little 
 body. If a boy, according to his size, could leap as high as 
 the cheese-hopper, he would be able to jump over the highest 
 house in England. Before this little insect jumps, it bends 
 itself into a circle, catching hold of the end of its tail with its 
 hooked mandibles, then, throwing itself open with asudden jerk, 
 away it goes six or eight inches high, while the whole length 
 of its body is frequently not more than a quarter of an inch. 
 These maggots Avould, in time, turn to a very small black fly, 
 with whitish wings ; and one of these flies alone is capable of 
 depositing from two to three hundred eggs in a cheese. 
 
 There is another insect called the Wheat-fly, which make? 
 sad havoc amongst corn, sometimes seriously damaging the 
 whole crop of a field. But such is the wonderful interposition 
 of Providence that, while these insects are in their larvae or 
 grub-state, they are seized upon by another species of fly, with 
 four wings, which belong to the class of ichneumons, who 
 plunges the end of her sharp-pointed body into the grub of the 
 wheat-fly, and there deposits her egg, where it remains until 
 
 52
 
 INSECTS. 
 
 the egg in its turn becomes a grub, that has teen nourished by 
 the body of the larvae of the wheat-fly ; but what is most sin- 
 gular, the ichneumon will not deposit its egg in the grub of 
 the wheat-fly, if it has been already pricked by one of its 
 own species. The earwig is also a great devourer of the larvae 
 of the wheat-fly, and it, in turn, falls a prey to other animals. 
 Thus, you see, one insect lives upon another in endless suc- 
 cession ; they then become the prey of birds, and so the de- 
 struction goes on, upward and upward, until they at last become 
 the food of man. As it is on land, so it is with fishes in the 
 ocean, and in rivers ; the spawn of the large fishes is fed upon 
 by the smaller fry, who again furnish a meal for the larger 
 fishes, whose spawn they feed upon. A seed is dropped by a 
 bird into the trunk of a decayed tree, and in that very decay 
 the seed takes root, and thus we may sometimes see one tree 
 growing out of another. Even a drop of water teems with 
 life, and, by the aid of a powerful microscope, may be disco- 
 vered within several species of animalculae ; and in that round 
 silver drop, the same work of destruction is going forward, 
 and the larger are found making the smaller ones their prey ; 
 even those which appear destitute of either limbs, or fins, or 
 sight, possess some unknown power of perception, which guides 
 them with unerring aim to the smaller species they feed upon. 
 The very leaves which are whirled to and fro by the blasts 
 of Autumn, which the rains and snows of Winter beat upon 
 and rot, furnish a rich soil for the flowers of Spring; and 
 but for this very decay, we should find the Summer woods de- 
 void of many of their beautiful ornaments. Even the little 
 fly has its mission to accomplish, and countless millions of 
 these pi'ey upon the decayed matter, which would otherwise im- 
 pregnate and poison the air. For nothing was made in vain. 
 
 That little round bulk which you see suspended between 
 the ears of com that are still standing, and which is not larger 
 than a cricket-ball, is the 
 
 53
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 NEST OF THE HARVEST MOUSE, 
 
 which is the smallest of all known British quadrupeds, only one 
 sixth of the size of the common house mouse ; for two harvest 
 mice placed in a scale, will not do more than weigh down a single 
 half-penny. Its little nest is beautifully constructed of leaves, 
 and sometimes the softer portion of reeds. About the middle 
 there is a small hole; just large enough to admit the point of 
 the little finger ; this is the entrance to the nest, which the 
 mouse closes up when it goes out in quest of food ; and yet 
 this fairy structure, which a man might enclose in the palni of 
 his hand, and which might be tumbled across the table like a 
 ball, without disarranging it, often contains as many as eight 
 or nine little naked blind mice ; for even when full grown, the 
 whole length of the head and body scarcely exceed two inches. 
 During the winter months it retires to its burrow under the 
 ground, unless it should be fortunate enough to get into a corn 
 stack. It is one of the prettiest of our English animals, and 
 
 54
 
 HARVEST MOUSE. 
 
 may be kept in a cage, like \vhite mice, where it will amuse it- 
 self for several minutes at a time, by turning round a wire 
 wheel ; its chief food is corn, although it will occasionally feed 
 upon insects. How the harvest mouse contrives to give 
 nourishment to eight or nine young ones, in that round and 
 confined little nest, was a puzzle to that clever naturalist, 
 Gilbert White; and as he could not resolve so difficult a 
 question, he imagined that she must make holes in different 
 parts of the nest, and so feed one at a time. It is very 
 amusing to watch the habits of this beautiful little creature 
 in a cage, to see how she will twine her tail around the wires, 
 clean herself with her paws, and lap water like a dog : it is 
 the Kttle tomtit of animals. 
 
 Even the common mouse, which is so great a pest to our 
 houses, is an elegantly shaped little animal, although it is such 
 a plague in the cupboard and the larder ; wherever man goes, it 
 follows him ; let him build ever so princely a mansion, he is 
 sure to have the little mouse for a tenant ; he walks in, we can- 
 not tell how, and when he has once obtained possession, he is in 
 no hurry to start again ; he helps himself to whatever he can 
 get at, without asking any one's permission, and he never 
 saw a carpet in his life, that he ever thought was too good for 
 himself and his little companions to play upon. He is a 
 capital judge of cheese, and were half a dozen sorts placed 
 upon the shelf, he would-be sure to help himself to the very 
 best ; and yet in Wales they think nothing of catching this 
 pretty little inoffensive pest alive, tying him up by the tail, 
 and hanging him before the fire to roast, believing that the 
 screams the little mouse makes while writhing in this horrible 
 agony, is the means of driving all the rest of the mice out of 
 the house. What noble-hearted English boy would not like to 
 crack Taffy's head with a good stick, while he was superintend- 
 ing such cruel cookery ; for my part, I should think it no sin 
 to hold his nose, for an instant, against the hot bars. None but a 
 
 55
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 person of most depraved and brutalized mind, could be guilty of 
 such unnatural cruelty. But now I will tell you a story about 
 
 THREE BLIND MICE. 
 There were three blind mice 
 All sat on a shelf eating rice : 
 " I say," said one, " Oh, isn't it nice ?" 
 " I think," said another, " it wants a little spice." 
 " My dear sir," said the third, "you are rather too precise ; 
 
 Eat more, and talk a little less, 
 "Was our poor pa's advice, 
 
 A truth he oft tried to impress 
 On his little, brown, blind mice." 
 
 The old grey cat 
 
 Sat on the thick rope mat, 
 
 Washing her face and head, 
 
 And listening to what they said. 
 " Stop," said she, " till I 've wiped me dry, 
 And I'll be with you by-and-by, 
 
 And if I'm not mistaHen, 
 
 Unless you save your bacon, 
 My boys, I'll make you fly." 
 
 She pricks up her ears, 
 
 And to the cupboard goes, 
 Saying, " Wait a bit, my dears, 
 
 Till T hook you with my toes, 
 For, as I have n't dined to-day, 
 I'll just take lunch, then go away ;" 
 And as she walked quite perpendicular, 
 Said, " I'm not at all particular." 
 
 Without any further talk, 
 
 She made a sudden spring, 
 And like many clever folk 
 
 Who aim at everything, 
 She overleaped her mark, 
 And in their hole so dark 
 The mice got safe away. 
 Said the cat, "This is notorious !" 
 And she mewed out quite uproarious. 
 56 ,
 
 HOGS IN A FOREST. 
 
 But I have not yet done with the woods at this season 
 of the year, nor shall I have space to tell you one half of the 
 things I have seen in them during my rambles in the country. 
 
 fe 
 
 HOGS IN A FOREST 
 
 in Autumn, feeding upon the fallen acorns, have a very different 
 appearance to when seen in a sty ! Running about amongst 
 the underwood makes their bristly hides glitter like silver; 
 and they have often a very picturesque appearance when seen 
 beside the stems of gigantic trees, or breaking the deep green 
 background with patches of agreeable light. Bloomfield, in 
 his " Farmer's Boy," has given an admirable description of 
 them, starting off at the rising of the wild-duck from a pool 
 how the whole herd set off, grunting and running as if for 
 their very lives, through " sedges and rushes, and reeds and 
 dangling thickets ; " how, if they pause a moment, some one 
 raises a new alarm, and off they scamper, helter-skelter, one 
 after the other, squelling and squeaking as if they were about 
 to be turned into pork. Those who live on the borders of 
 
 57
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 forests claim the privilege of turning their hogs out to eat 
 the " mast," as the acorns and beech-nuts are called ; and this 
 custom dates as far back as the times of the Saxon, for in 
 Doomsday Book, -which was compiled from actual survey, by 
 the order of William the Conqueror, we find in the returns 
 that were then made the nnmber of swine which were kept 
 within the different forests during Autumn. The swine-herd 
 collects his hogs together in the forest from the different 
 farmers around, who pay him so much per head whilst they 
 are under his care. He generally selects some huge oak tree, 
 round the bole of which he runs a wattled fence, woven out of 
 the hazels and brambles of the underwood ; and inside of this 
 he forms a good bedding of fern and reeds, or long withered 
 grass, such as abound in forest glades ; taking care, however, 
 to select a spot near some brook or pool of water, and also to 
 provide a famous feast for his herd on the first day, blowing 
 his horn lustily all the while they are feeding, and what with 
 the noise he manages to make, together with the squelling 
 and quarrelling of the swine over their food, there is such 
 a concert got up as Paganini never dreamed of in his wildest 
 flights. 
 
 For the first two or three days the swine-herd has to look 
 carefully after them, to drive them into their forest-sty in the 
 evening, and teach them where to go to when they are thirsty ; 
 and after this period he may leave them safely to take their 
 chance, for although they are but a lot of stupid pigs, yet there 
 are always found a few sensible enough amongst them, to find 
 their way home to their bed under the huge oak in the evening, 
 and whenever these lead the way the rest follow ; and a pretty 
 sight it is to see several hundreds of them trudging through 
 the wild solitudes of a forest when the evening sunset gilds 
 the mossy and weather-beaten trunks of the trees. Neither 
 are hogs such an unsocial race as some believe them to be : they 
 have their likes and their dislikes, like the rest of us ; who can 
 
 58
 
 HOGS IN A FOREST. 
 
 forget Sir Walter Scott's pet pig, that used to follow him like 
 a dog about the grounds of Abbotsford ! And even when ranging 
 about the forest, and feeding on the yellow acorns, they will 
 congregate together in different groups, forming a land of 
 friendship amongst themselves, which is never broken up whilst 
 the mast-feeding lasts, for the same groups regularly separate 
 from the herd, keep their own company, and return quite 
 orderly in the evening, that is, in a well-conducted colony of pigs. 
 Nor was the hog always a low animal grovelling in a sty : his 
 ancestors were a fine-spirited race having the range of the 
 forest like deer, and had often the honour of being hunted by 
 kings if it is an honour to be chased and worried in such 
 choice company, for the wild boar was a dangerous and powerful 
 animal, who used to sharpen his great tusks on the hard stems 
 of trees, and run at whatever dared to oppose him. Many a 
 noble horse has been ripped open by his formidable tusks iii 
 past ages, when he was a beast of chace in the old primitive 
 English forests. What think you of a law which ordained that 
 a man should have his eyes torn out if he was found guilty of 
 killing a wild boar? Such a law did William the Conqueror 
 make about eight hundred years ago, and there is no doubt 
 but that it was put into execution. And now they are talking 
 about erecting a statue to this Norman invader, who was the 
 cause of putting thousands of poor Saxons to death. There 
 were wild boars in England, in the New Forest, no further 
 back than the time of Charles the First, but they were swept 
 away under the iron sway of Cromwell, who was a thousand 
 times a better man than William the Norman, although he did 
 countenance the beheading of King Charles, who would have be- 
 headed him, if he had but found an opportunity for doing so. 
 
 It was a much nobler exercise to hunt a savage wild boar, 
 than it is either to chase a poor fox, or a harmless hare, 
 because the boar could, and did often, defend himself to some 
 purpose; it was either kill or be killed when they came to 
 
 59
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 blows with him, he neither gave quarter nor craved it, but 
 made a bold rush at whatever opposed him ; man, horse, or 
 dog were often compelled to make way for him, it was death to 
 dispute the path with him when he had once made up his 
 mind for a plunge ; and it was no joke to stand in the way of 
 an old one, which sometimes measured between five and six 
 feet in length, with great tusks sticking up sharper than the 
 horns of a bull. Just fancy yourself coming home through one 
 of those wild forests in the evening, and hearing a great wild 
 boar sharpening his tusks on the iron stem of some knotted 
 oak, making every dell and dingle ring again with the sound, 
 would n't you have scampered off as fast as your legs could 
 have carried you ? Then if he had chased you, and you had 
 climbed into a tree, perhaps he would have come just to have 
 given his tusks another whet, or laid down to have a bit of a 
 snooze, and get his appetite in good order against you 
 descended. Not much of a treat to have gone a nutting in the 
 forests in those days, with a prospect of being turned into 
 brawn before morning ; yet such was the England we now live 
 in once : and beside the wild boar there was a pretty sprinkling 
 of wolves a company of customers one would fain have had no 
 dealings with, if they wanted to bargain for a supper with one. 
 Just fancy living in a nice little cottage near a wood at that 
 period, first comes a boar and tries the door with his tusk not 
 quite like a watchman, who, when he has broken your sleep by 
 sounding the shutters, consoles you by calling out " all right." 
 He goes, then up come two or three wolves smelling about, 
 and serenading you with a few long howls, asking you, in their 
 way, " if you have any thing nice for supper," and not at all 
 particular whether it was a dear old grandfather, or a little 
 brother, or sister, in the cradle. It would n't have done to have 
 played at " I spy " amongst the forest trees in those days after 
 dusk. Just fancy what you would have done yourself had you 
 lived then instead of now ? 
 
 m
 
 \VILD BOARS FIGHTING. 
 
 Awful must it have been to have beheld those tusked 
 and savage 
 
 BOARS FIGHTING; 
 
 and I have heard of two boys, who, while they were out nutting 
 in Autumn, in one of the large forests in Hampshire, saw two 
 of these monsters fight, while they stood behind a large oak to 
 hide themselves ; well knowing that the boars were too seriously 
 engaged to take any notice of them. Oh ! what an awful noise 
 they made ! as they retreated back for a moment, then dashed 
 their hard iron foreheads together, meeting with such a clash 
 as made the forest ring again. They bit, they snorted, their 
 jaws were flecked with white foam, they ground their teeth 
 together, they made their tusks rattle against each other, while 
 their eyes glared like fire. You could not have believed the 
 strength there was in those short, brawny necks, unless you 
 had beheld them fighting ; those boys fairly trembled again as 
 they looked on so savage and terrible was that combat. At 
 length they fought with their heads down, each trying, if he 
 could, to get under his opponent, and to tear him open with his 
 sharp, projecting, and formidable tusks, which stood up like 
 the points of scythes above those hideous and horrible jaws, 
 that were now dyed over with blood and foam. For a moment 
 
 61
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 those two boars stood at bay, their eyes fixed, their heads bent, 
 their muscular necks swollen with anger, as if each waited for 
 the other to renew the combat, and stood on guard ready to 
 receive and return the blow ; round and round did they turn, 
 front to front, each seeking an opportunity to pierce the flank 
 of his adversary, and so, by ripping open his opponent, end at 
 one blow the combat. The boar, that had all along stood so 
 much upon his guard, that had oftener parried the blows than 
 made the attack, had again drawn back, and stood full in the 
 front of its enraged enemy, who had retreated to gather greater 
 force, and now came along with a rush, and a thundering sound, 
 which made the earth beneath his feet shake again ! when in 
 the midst of his career, just as he was in the act of holding 
 down his head, to rush under and overturn his opponent, the 
 other sprung aside, and in an instant drove his long white tusks 
 into the flank of his adversary, and before he could turn him- 
 self, the blood rushed out of his side. But this only seemed 
 to enrage him the more, for it was scarcely the work of a mo- 
 ment before he had ploughed open the side of the other boar 
 and there they lay bleeding and attempting to bite each other, 
 long after they were too much exhausted, by loss of blood, to 
 rise up and renew the combat. Whether they recovered or 
 died, those two boys waited not to see, for they had hitherto 
 stood powerless, and fettered to the spot through fear not 
 even daring to run away, lest their motion should arrest the 
 attention of the enraged combatants. But these were not the 
 real wild boars that infested our old English forests, and were 
 hunted by kings and nobles in ancient days, though they fought 
 savagely enough to have made the stoutest-hearted boy quail, 
 and to have wished himself a mile or two away from the spot 
 where they fought for such were their strength and rage, that 
 for yards around they had torn up the earth with their feet and 
 tusks, as they rushed together in that terrible combat. 
 
 And now I must tell you a wild legend, connected with a 
 
 C2
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 
 
 dark lake, which stood in the neighbourhood of a desolate and 
 dreary wood ; wishing you, however, to bear in mind beforehand, 
 that it is just about as true as the " Adventures of Baron Mun- 
 chausen," or " Gulliver's Travels." Still, it will amuse you, if read 
 on a dark Winter's night, in the shadowy gloom, by the fire-light ; 
 and also, it will show you, that the conscience of a murderer can 
 never be at rest, that he must ever be fancying he sees strange 
 sights, and hears sad sounds, like the old man I am about to 
 describe, in the little legend I have written, and entitled, 
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 
 
 There is a wood which few dare tread, 
 
 So still its depth, so deep its gloom ; 
 The vaulted chambers of the dead 
 Scarce fill the soul with half the dread, 
 
 You feel while near that living tomb. 
 
 Deep in its centre sleeps a lake, 
 
 Where tall tree-tops the mirror darkens ; 
 
 No roaring wind those boughs can shake, 
 
 Ruffle the water's face, or break 
 
 The silence there which ever hearkens. 
 
 No flowers around that water grow, 
 
 The birds fly over it in fear, 
 The antique roots above it bow, 
 The newt and toad crawl down below, 
 
 The viper also sleepeth there. 
 
 Few are the spots so deathly still, 
 
 So mantled in eternal gloom ; 
 No sound is heard of babbling rill, 
 A voiceless silence seems to fill 
 
 The air around that liquid tomb. 
 
 The ivy creepeth to and fro, 
 
 Along the arching boughs which meet ; 
 The fir and bright-leaved misletoe 
 Hang o'er the holly and black sloe, 
 
 In darkness which can ne'er retreat 
 
 63
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 For there the sunbeams never shine, 
 
 That sullen lake beholds no sky, 
 
 No moonbeam drops its silvery line, 
 
 No star looks down with eyes benign, 
 
 The very lightning hurries by. 
 
 The huntsmen pass it at full speed, 
 
 The hounds howl loud, and seem to fear it, 
 The fox makes for the open mead, 
 Full in the teeth of man and steed, 
 He does not dare to shelter near it. 
 
 * No woodman's axe is heard to sound 
 
 Within that forest night nor day ; 
 
 No human footstep dents the ground, 
 
 No voice disturbs the deep profound, 
 
 No living soul dare through it stray. 
 
 For shrieks, they say, are heard at night, 
 
 And waitings of a little child, 
 And ghastly streams of lurid light 
 Flash red upon the traveller's sight, 
 
 When riding by that forest wild. 
 
 For they believe blood hath been shed 
 
 Beside the tangling brambles' brake, 
 And still they say the murdered dead 
 Rise nightly from their watery bed, 
 And wander round the haunted lake. 
 
 "Tis said she is a lady fair, 
 
 In silken robes superbly dressed, 
 With large bright eyes that wildly glare, 
 While clotted locks, of long black hair, 
 Droop o'er the infant at her breast. 
 
 She speaks not, but her white hand raises, 
 
 And to the lake, with pointed finger, 
 Beckons the step of him who gazes ; 
 Then shrieking seeks the leafy mazes, 
 Leaving a pale blue light to linger. 
 64
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 
 
 But who she is no one can tell, 
 
 Nor who her murderer may be 
 But one beside that wood did dwell, 
 On whom suspicion darkly fell 
 
 A rich unhappy lord was he. 
 
 In an old hall he lived alone, 
 
 No servant with him dared to stay ; 
 For shriek, and yell, and piercing groan, 
 And infant's ery and woman's moan, 
 
 Rang through those chambers night and day. 
 
 He was, indeed, a wretched man, 
 
 And wrung his hands and beat his breast ; 
 
 His cheeks were sunken, thin, and wan, 
 
 Remorse had long deep furrows ran 
 Across his brow he could not rest. 
 
 He sometimes wandered through the wood, 
 
 Or stood to listen by its side, 
 Or, bending o'er the foaming flood, 
 Would try to wash away the blood, 
 
 With which his guilty hands seem'd dyed. 
 
 He never spoke to living soul ; 
 
 Oh ! how an infant made him quake ; 
 For then his eyes would wildly roll, 
 And he would shriek, and rave, and how], 
 
 While thinking of the "haunted lake." 
 
 But that old lord has long been dead ; 
 
 The old hall is deserted now ; 
 They say he ne'er was buried : 
 He died, but not within his bed, 
 
 And no one knoweth when, or how. 
 
 Such was the legend first told to me by my uncle, at 
 Thonock, and for your amusement I have put it into rhyme ; 
 and although it is all stories about the ghost, and the woman 
 with her child appearing, still it is true that their bodies were
 
 ATJTUMX. 
 
 found in that lake, and that the man who was supposed to have 
 murdered them, left England for many years, and then came 
 back of his own accord, for he could not rest any where, so 
 he confessed to the murder, and was hung. 
 
 No objects give greater beauty to forest scenery, than a 
 
 HERD OF DEER. 
 Whether seen pacing in stately 
 twos or threes across some open 
 glade, carrying their antlered 
 heads erect ; halting by the bole 
 of some gigantic tree ; couched 
 amid the broad, brown braehen, 
 which Autumn has tinted with 
 its many-coloured hues ; or trip- 
 ping lightly across the ancient 
 avenue of some old English 
 
 park, where they are so often seen in whatever place the 
 eye alights upon them, they fill the mind with images of 
 pleasure. Then there is something so graceful in the form 
 of the fawns, -so innocent in the expression of their coun- 
 tenances, as they trot lovingly by the side of the hind or 
 
 66
 
 RED DEER. 
 
 the doe, that we fancy such a sight must have softened 
 the heart of the haughtiest baron that ever cased himself in 
 cruel armour, whenever he looked down from the high battle- 
 ments of his moated castle, and gazed over the vast landscape 
 which stretched everywhere around. But out of all the noble 
 and antlered race, the stag, or 
 
 is our favourite ; for it is associated in our mind with Shakspere, 
 
 E 2 67
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 the forest of Arden, and the melancholy Jacques, who gave 
 utterance to such exquisite poetry 
 
 "As he lay along 
 
 Under an oak, whose antique roots peept out 
 Upon the brook that brawled along the wood : 
 To the which place a poor sequestered stag 
 That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 
 Did come to languish: " 
 
 it recalls the days when monarchs swept through the forest 
 
 on foam-flecked steeds ; when the deep baying of the hounds 
 
 awakened a hundred echoes ; and every dell and dingle rung 
 
 again, "while with puffed cheek, the belted hunter blew his 
 
 wreathed bugle horn." But the stately stag, the largest of all 
 
 the deer that exist in this country, is no longer found in a wild 
 
 state in England. Cultivation and civilization have made a 
 
 prisoner of this old monarch of the woods; and, instead of 
 
 ranging free, for miles, over unbounded forests, he is confined 
 
 within the enclosures of a few sequestered parks. On the 
 
 heath-covered mountains of Scotland, only, does he ramble alone 
 
 in his wild, unfettered majesty. But although the stag is the 
 
 noblest looking animal of the species, yet the flat-horned, 
 
 spotted fallow deer, loses nothing beside it, in comparison of 
 
 beauty. Every boy who has visited Greenwich Park, must 
 
 remember how tame these graceful animals are ; and few, we 
 
 dare say, have gone there without making them partakers of 
 
 their apples or biscuits : and what boy, in his time, has not 
 
 possessed a knife with a buck-horn handle ? But the most 
 
 curious thing is, that those large and stately horns which we 
 
 see upon the deer, often weighing upwards of twenty pounds, 
 
 come off every Spring ; and within three months afterwards, a 
 
 pair, equally as large and grand, grow out in the place of the 
 
 old ones, to be shed again in the following Spring. We should 
 
 be astonished to see a plant in a garden shoot up to such a size, 
 
 in so short a space of time ; and yet I can assure you that this 
 
 68
 
 DEER IN THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 ponderous pile of bone, often grows to this enormous size in 
 less time than I have stated. Deers' horns have been found 
 measuring thirteen feet across the top, and six feet in length ; 
 but they belonged to a gigantic species, winch are supposed no 
 longer to exist. There would n't be much fear of such a gen- 
 tleman as that walking into one's house. What a weight the 
 poor beast must have carried on his head ! and what a crashing 
 he must have made when he ran thundering through a forest, 
 clearing all above him for the wide space of thirteen feet ! 
 What a harvest would he but make for the old fagot-gatherers ; 
 if any rotten boughs but happened to hang in his way, what 
 a rattle he would fetch them down with ! Many a young 
 bird has he sent tumbling out of its nest in his day, although 
 he intended to do it no harm. Then his great forehead 
 was a foot in width, and to have sat upon it, and rested one's 
 arms upon the lower branches of his antlers, must, if he would 
 but have allowed it, have formed a very comfortable seat. And 
 should he then chanced to have set off at full speed, why, it 
 would have been like travelling by the railway not only as 
 regards space, but the equal certainty that we should have been 
 liable to accidents. There is another class of deer called the 
 roebucks, possessing so fine a scent, that the hunters have the 
 greatest difficulty in approaching them. If you saw one bound 
 across a road when it was pursued, you would never forget it : 
 just fancy its clearing twenty feet of ground at a single leap 
 and I can tell you this has been done by the roebuck many 
 times before now. We sometimes see a good-sized pork-pie 
 now but oh ! they are nothing to the venison pasties which 
 our grandfathers made in the olden time. They thought but little 
 of thrusting half a deer into a crust, that weighed two or three 
 stone, in those days ; then, making a clear space among the 
 red embers on the ample hearth, covering it over again with 
 the glowing wood-ashes, and leaving it all night to bake : and 
 next morning a score of great, hungry fellows, with their coats
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 of mail on, and their helmets off, would sit around a huge, 
 black, solid oaken table, and nearly devour all the pastry for 
 breakfast, washing it down with huge wooden jacks of foaming 
 ale, then, wiping the froth from their hairy lips, they would put 
 on their helmets, grasp their spears, leap into their saddles, 
 and sally out, ready to fight any one who dare assert, that the 
 old baron whom they served, was not the boldest knight in 
 England. But if you would know all about castles, and bat- 
 tles, and outlaws, and forests, and herds of wild deer, and 
 herds of fallow deer, and the huge venison pasties they formed, 
 and the brown ale they brewed in those days, you must read 
 Sir Walter Scott's novel entitled, " Ivanhoe." 
 
 And now, lest I should weary you with too many of my de- 
 scriptions of the country, I will tell you of a character whom we 
 used to call Brandy-ball Jack. 
 
 Almost every country town and village have their celebrated 
 venders of sweetmeats from the little huckster's shop, where 
 they profess to deal in every thing, to the distinguished manu- 
 facturer himself, who, as he cries his wares, wheels before 
 him his little barrow, or cart, while he extols the richness of 
 his hard-bake, tuffey, butter-scotch, peppermint, pincushions, 
 sugar-sticks, bull's-eyes, and brandy-balls, and every other com- 
 pound of sugar and molasses, flavoured with no end of essences 
 and spices, and worked into such tempting forms, that hard, 
 indeed, must be the palate of that boy, which would not melt 
 and water at them. But of all the venders of sweetmeats, 
 never was there one to approach our old favourite, Brandy-ball 
 Jack, who was celebrated from one end of the county to the 
 other. Ah ! his was something of a cart divided into parti- 
 tions, and filled with every thing sweet that the taste could 
 covet, while in the centre there rose up a huge mountain of 
 hard-bake, so hard, that he was compelled to use a little brass 
 hammer to break it up with : then he threw such lumps into 
 his bright copper scales, and gave such bumping weight, tempt- 
 
 re
 
 BRANDY-BALL JACK. 
 
 ing us to buy, whether we would or not, by thrusting the little 
 bits he chipped off into our mouths, arid calling out all the 
 while, " A penny an ounce a penny an ounce ; there never was 
 such times; this is made after the royal receipt, and is the 
 very same that his majesty made his dinner of, at the last 
 coronation ; a penny an ounce a penny an ounce !" and many 
 a poor boy, who looked on, as his mouth watered, and who had 
 seldom a penny to spend, vowed, within himself, that if he 
 were king of England, he would dine upon such hard-bake 
 everj r day. As for his brandy-balls, he said that they were 
 both victuals and drink, and that if a man was left all 
 winter on an iceberg in the Polar seas, he would neither feel 
 cold nor hunger, while he had a good supply of those brandy- 
 balls. 
 
 Now, as old Jacky went from fair to fair, and from feast to 
 feast, and visited in turn each merry-making, wake, and " statice" 
 in the county, where his sweet wares were exposed to every 
 shower of rain, and every cloud of dust that blew from the 
 windy, naked highways ; our young readers may readily imagine 
 what a nice, brown, gritty covering sometimes encased all these 
 delicious things ; but as there is an old adage which says, that 
 " even" one in his lifetime is doomed to eat a peck of dirt," why 
 we made no faces about the matter, but ate and champed away, as 
 if a cloud of dust had never existed in the world ; and as many 
 birds pick up large quantities of sand to aid their digestion, 
 there is no knowing but what a good sprinkling of clean dust 
 might have counteracted the effects of the over-sweetness of 
 old Brandy-ball's confectionary. But once he had a lot that 
 were too bad even for our universal appetites; they had been 
 rained upon, and blowed upon, wetted, and dusted, dusted, and 
 wetted again, until they had accumulated layer upon layer, and 
 strata upon strata, with every beautiful variety of grit and sand- 
 stone, which is so much admired in geological formation, though 
 any tiling but fit to eat. Day after day, and week after week, did 
 
 71
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 this pile of brandy-balls remain, looking at last not unlike sand- 
 balls ; and with every advancing week there came a reduction 
 in price, from four a penny, we were offered five, six, and eight ; 
 but though there was a decline of cent, per cent., still there 
 were no bidders. They became at last a standing joke amongst 
 us boys, and I cannot tell half the witty things that we said about 
 them; but all Brandy-ball Jack said was, " They'll be eaten 
 some day :" and while we shook our heads in doubt, he, with a 
 knowing wink, said, " You'll see," and, to our surprise, we 
 did see, for the great dirty pile every day grew less and less, 
 although we never saw one sold. This, for some time, was 
 a great puzzle to us ; but a greater still, was a new kind of 
 brandy-ball, which he sold for six a penny, and so great a run 
 was there for this new size, that there was but little call for 
 the old four-a-penny brandy-balls. Strange, however, he could 
 not supply us fast enough with this new article, for, as he 
 said, they took a deal of manufacturing ; and, when we inquired 
 what he had done with the old dirty stock which he had had 
 so long on hand, he knowingly closed one eye, which was 
 a great habit of his, and answered, " Why, my lads, they're 
 selling like wild-fire, wholesale and for exportation." Then it 
 was noticed by all, that old Brandy-ball Jack did not converse 
 so much with us as he used to do, and this one boy, who was 
 keener-sighted than the rest of us, said, was owing to his 
 having lately taken to chawing tobacco; of coui'se, he couldn't 
 be wrong, because he had seen the juice. But another boy, 
 sharper still, noticed how often Jacky changed his quid, or 
 chaw of tobacco, invariably putting the old one into a piece 
 of paper, which he applied to his mouth, and then tbrust it into 
 his pocket. In the same mysterious manner was the new 
 chaw put into his mouth, and for the life of us we could 
 not discover what tobacco it was that old Jacky chawed. But 
 time, that reveals many things, one day, when we were all 
 gathered around his cart, divulged the mystery. He chanced 
 
 72
 
 BRANDY-BALL JACK. 
 
 to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket, and with it there 
 came three quids, all screwed up and still moist. In an in- 
 stant a dozen hands were thrust towards them, for it had long 
 been a dispute amongst us, whether it was tobacco or hard 
 bake that Jacky chawed. When, lo, on unscrewing them, we 
 found in each, two brandy-balls, the size of such as he sold at 
 six a penny We saw through the whole process of the slow 
 manufacture in a moment he had been sucking the dirt from 
 off the old brandy-balls, which we had refused to buy at any 
 price, and after turning them in every corner of his dirty mouth 
 had sold them to us at six a penny. The murder was out 
 a dozen of us sprang upon him in an instant we turned his 
 pockets inside out we compelled him to open his mouth, and 
 eveiy dirty brandy-ball that we found sucked, or unsucked, we 
 made him swallow like so many pills. He made many a wry 
 face, but we had no mercy upon him, until a very large one, 
 covered with many an old crustation of dirt, chanced to stick 
 in his throat, when thumping him on the back, until we brought 
 the very tears into his eyes, we left him to his own reflec- 
 tions, discharging him as the Moor did Cassio in Shakspere's 
 " Othello," and saying, 
 
 " Brandy-ball Jack we lov'd thee, 
 But never more be sweetmeat man of ours." 
 
 Brandy-ball Jack had hitherto been a great favourite with us, 
 for he used often to amuse us with his curious stories, which 
 generally related to himself; and I will try to imitate his 
 manner as near as I can, while making you acquainted with 
 the adventure of a pork-pie. 
 
 " You see, my lads," for so Jacky always commenced his 
 narrative, " I used to attend Nottingham goose-fair, ay, I 
 may say, let me see, for this last twenty years ; and during 
 that twenty years I always dined at the Bell, and when I 
 dined at the Bell I always paid a shilling for my dinner. 
 
 73
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Now, a shilling for a dinner is a deal of money to a poor 
 man, who sells brandy-balls ; so I thought to myself, thought 
 I, one day : ' Now goose-fair lasts three days, and three days 
 is three dinners, and three dinners is three shillings 111 go 
 out and 1 11 buy myself a bit of pork, and a bit of flour, and 
 a bit of lard, and 1 11 make myself a nice raised pork-pie ;' for, 
 you see, I 'd been making a great deal of hard-bake for Not- 
 tingham goose-fair, and I 'd a good fire, and my oven was nice 
 and hot, and I knew it would bake it beautifully. Well, al- 
 though I say it myself, I made as nice a pork-pie as the king 
 of England would wish to have sat down to ; I seasoned it 
 beautifully, and so you 'd have said if you 'd seen it ; and I 
 worked the meat about with my hands, so that it might have 
 the same flavour all over alike, do you see ; which I consider 
 to be a great secret in making a raised pork-pie ; for I can't 
 bear at one bite to get a mouthful of meat, and at the next 
 bite a mouthful of pepper and salt, and nought else. Oh ! it 
 was baked lovely, so nice and brown, I couldn't sleep for 
 an hour or two after I had got into bed for thinking about 
 it ; and I thought to myself, ' Oh ! how I shall but enjoy 
 it at Nottingham goose-fair, I can eat my dinner now with- 
 out leaving my cart, or neglecting my business ; I can eat 
 my dinner now, and cry a penny an ounce, at the same 
 time.' Well, you know, next morning I put my things in my 
 cart, ready for Nottingham goose-fair : the brandy-balls here, 
 by themselves the butter-scotch there the tufley in this place 
 the black-jack in that; and then I filled in with cure-all, 
 and hard-bake, and peppermint pincushions : really it was beau- 
 tiful to look at it, I 'd done it so nicely. I 'm sure if a duchess 
 had looked at it that morning, she couldn't have resisted buy- 
 ing either a penn'orth of bull's-eyes, or brandy -balls ; and then 
 I covered in and tucked it in all round with a nice, clean, white 
 cloth. Well, you know, my lads, just as I 'd got it all ready, 
 and was preparing to start for Nottingham goose-fair, I re- 
 
 74
 
 BRANDY- BALL JACKS PORK-PIE. 
 
 memberecl, all at once, I 'd forgotten my raised pork-pie ; and I 
 didn't know whatever was to be done with it, for I couldn't think 
 of unpacking my cart again ; besides, it was full, and it would 
 have been so much trouble. First of all I thought of putting 
 it into my coat pocket, but as I must have put it in sideways, I 
 thought it might break, and then all the gravy would have run 
 out, and, you see, that wouldn't have done at all, 'cause it 
 would completely have spoilt the flavour ; so after a good deal 
 of thinking, and turning it over in my mind, first on this side, 
 and then on that, at last of all I decided on putting it into my 
 hat, and placing it bottom downwards on the top of my head. 
 Although it was a tight fit, I managed to stow it away very 
 nicely in my hat. Well, my lads, after having arranged every- 
 thing nice and comfortable, I set off for Nottingham ; it was 
 very early, and rather a cold morning, for the mornings do set 
 in rather cold in October. Well, on I went, wheeling my cart, 
 for, you see, I 'd got five or six miles to wheel it before I got 
 to Nottingham goose-fair, and although I felt very cold so 
 cold that, every now and then, I was obliged to stop, and beat 
 my hands across my chest to warm them ; yet, do you know, 
 just as I got to Nottingham Trent bridge, I broke out all at 
 once into a violent perspiration never was in such a perspi- 
 ration in my life. ' Bless me ! ' said I, to myself, ' here am I, 
 all down from head to foot as cold as a frog, and yet the sweat 's 
 trickling down my cheeks in torrents it 's very strange ! ' Well, 
 I kept wheeling on, and on, and on, sometimes stopping, and 
 taking out my handkerchief to wipe the sweat off my face ; but 
 it was of no use, the more I wiped, the more I sweated. The 
 sweat trickled down my cheeks, and on my neck, and along 
 my back ; all my hair was wet with it. 'Bless me ! ' said I, 'it's 
 very strange, I never perspired so much in my life.' I 'd often 
 heard talk of cold sweats, and I thought to myself, 'Why, surelie, 
 this must be one of those cold sweats, as they call 'em.' Well, 
 do you know, as I got to Nottingham, it begun to go off a little,
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 and I thought to myself, ' When I get to goose-fair, I '11 give 
 my head a good rubbing, and then it '11 be all right.' Well, my 
 lads, would you believe it, -when I got there, and took my hat 
 off, I found, to my astonishment, I had n't been sweating at 
 all ; for the bottom of the pork-pie had broken, and let all the 
 gravy out; for, after all, I hadn't sweated a bit, it was only the 
 gravy out of the pie after all ? Now, was n't that very strange, 
 my lads ?" Of course, we thought it was. 
 
 But I have not yet told you any thing about the history of 
 the Dog : the most sagacious animal in all the brute creation ; 
 the friend and companion of man in all ages of the world : 
 ever true and faithful in his attachment ; as susceptible of kind- 
 ness as any of our own race ; and, in many instances, displaying 
 such a fondness towards its master, as causes it to mourn and 
 droop after his death, and never, while it lives, attach itself 
 to another. There are volumes of anecdotes written about 
 the dog, describing his gratitude, perseverance, courage, faith, 
 fulness, sagacity, and devoted attachment ; all of which are 
 so well known, that I shall confine myself to its history, 
 and the description of the different varieties, which are, or 
 have been, common to England. But, first, I must tell you 
 that the true origin of the dog is unknown ; and that all our 
 travellers, and writers of Natural History, cannot discover 
 whence this faithful and domesticated animal first sprung. 
 That there is a close resemblance between the anatomy of the 
 wolf and the dog, is an important point, on which all our great- 
 est naturalists agree ; and Hunter came to the conclusion, that 
 the wolf, the jackal, and the dog are all of one species. And 
 there are instances on record, in which the wolf has shown as 
 much attachment to its master, as was ever evinced by the 
 dog, by mourning, and sorrowing, and refusing to eat during 
 his absence ; and leaping up, licking his face, running round 
 him, and showing every mark of fondness to express its joy 
 at the master's return, after an absence of three years. And
 
 DOGS . BLOODHOUND . 
 
 after having carefully perused a number of works (along 
 with many others), I have arrived at the conclusion, that the 
 whole race of dogs have had their origin from the wolf; the 
 greatest proof of which is, that when dogs have again returned 
 to a wild state, and the young have, in the course of time, 
 as one generation followed another, grown up, they have inva- 
 riably borne a closer resemblance to the wolf; so, on the other 
 hand, have they, in a domesticated state, and with par- 
 ticular care, merged into a strongly-marked and distinct breed, 
 until we marvel, at seeing such contrasts as there are between 
 the pug and the greyhound, that they have all sprung from 
 the same origin. 
 
 First, I shall tell you about the true old English Blood- 
 hound, which was the dread and horror of murderers, and thieves, 
 in the olden time ; for when he once had scented the footsteps 
 of the culprit, night and day would he follow him ; no matter 
 how intricate and difficult the path: through the thick and 
 entangling covert of the forest, he went, step by step ; in the 
 cavern, and out again, over mountain, and marsh, and morass, 
 to the very spot, by the edge of the river, where he had crossed, 
 and when on the opposite shore, with unerring scent, he again 
 pursued his victim ; for no tree was too high, nor cavern too 
 deep, but what he would scent out his way to the foot of the 
 one, or the mouth of the other. He never seemed weary, 
 never in a great hurry, he left not an inch of ground in the 
 " trail" unsearched; if the door was closed, he quitted not the 
 habitation in which the hunted victim was sheltered, but hung 
 about the threshhold, until the robber was captured. There 
 is something about the breadth of his mouth, and the low 
 hanging of his upper lip, which gives a sullen expression to 
 his countenance, as if he was ever meditating some deep 
 design, which that broad breast, and those strong, powerful 
 limbs could without difficulty carry into execution, even al- 
 though he had to trace his prey from the remotest corner of 
 
 77
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Scotland, to the Land's End of England! Woe be to the 
 felon on whose footsteps he is once planted ! As soon might 
 old age hope to escape the pursuer Death, as the guilty 
 man to elude the track of the thorough-bred old English 
 bloodhound. 
 
 Next in dignity and grandeur of appearance, comes 
 the noble Stag-hound, whose strength and swiftness are 
 only equalled by the kindness of his nature. With him 
 the Saxon and Norman kings hunted the deer, in the gloomy 
 old English forests of ancient days. He was allowed to 
 bask before the fire in those grand old halls, which were 
 decorated with armour, and antlers of the mighty stags he 
 had torn down. Even the proud dais, where only the noble 
 and the titled congregated, was not considered disgraced by 
 the presence of the stately stag-hound; for, in those days, the 
 murderous guns were unknown ; and it was only by strength 
 of limb, and swiftness of foot, that the stag-hound was able 
 to come up with, and tear down the monarch of the forest. 
 
 Then comes the gaunt Greyhound, lithe of limb, and slen- 
 der of body. He trusts to his keen sight and the swiftness of 
 his long limbs, instead of his scent, to capture his prey; and no 
 racehorse could excel his speed, in running up a hill. In 
 former days, the greyhound was kept for hunting deer ; and 
 we find it on record, that when Queen Elizabeth was not dis- 
 posed to join the chase, she would sometimes station herself 
 where she could behold " the coursing of the deer with grey- 
 hounds." It is wonderful to see how nimbly a tall greyhound 
 will turn the course of a hare, which it has once started. 
 Right and left will poor puss run to evade its pursuer, but all is 
 of no avail ; and sometimes the chase lasts so long, that the 
 hare will run until it drops down dead before the greyhound 
 has reached it. 
 
 But of all our favourites amongst dogs, we must not forget 
 the little 
 
 78
 
 DOGS. TERRIERS. 
 
 TERRIERS, 
 
 and especially the wire-haired, shaggy- 
 browed, rough-looking Scotch breed, which 
 are unequalled in their qualities for de- 
 stroying vermin ; for who has not heard 
 of the celebrated terrier called " Billy," 
 who, when a hundred rats were turned 
 out before him, killed the whole num- 
 ber within the space of seven minutes ? 
 Let him but once see a weasel, or a 
 polecat, and death is its doom in an instant J To ferret his 
 way through thorns and brambles, drive a fox out of its hole, 
 frighten rabbits out of their burrows, the little terrier has 
 not an equal ; and, as for his eye, it is almost as bright 
 
 79
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 as a star, and sharp as the point of a needle. There is some- 
 thing very amusing in the countenances of some of the Isle of 
 Skye breed : in the long, shaggy hair which overhangs their 
 eyes, giving to the countenance, when in a state of repose, 
 the look of a little, droll, old, white-haired man, in a deep 
 study. We scarcely know a more amusing companion for a 
 boy, than a good-natured, thorough-bred terrier. 
 
 For patience, endurance, and faithfulness, there is not 
 one of the whole canine race that excels the Shepherd 
 Dog ; on the dry, dusty road, in a hot summer's day, there 
 he is panting, and barking, and keeping the flock together, 
 while his master is perhaps half a mile behind, stopping 
 to refresh himself at the roadside alehouse : faithful to his 
 charge he still pursues his way a carriage passes, he barks, 
 and drives them on one side ; two or three of the foremost 
 sheep take a wrong turning, he is up and running over 
 the backs of the flock, and in an instant puts them to rights, 
 then falls into the rear again, for his bark is the word of 
 command to all that woolly and stupid regiment. On the 
 moors and mountains of Scotland the shepherd sends out his 
 colly with the sheep, far out of his sight, conscious that when 
 he seta out to look for them, they will be found herded safely 
 together. In snow-drifts, and dark nights, the sagacity of this 
 dog is wonderful, and many a flock has been saved, which, but 
 for the intelligence of the shepherd dog, must have been lost ; 
 for he has been known to bring a flock of sheep many miles 
 by himself, when they have strayed away. There are three 
 varieties of the sheep-dog : as the Scotch, or colly ; the Southern ; 
 and the Drover's dog all, however, gifted with the same 
 sagacity and intelligence ; and we have often been amused by 
 watching their operations in Smithfield Market, to see how 
 readily they have picked out a stray sheep, which had run into 
 the midst of another flock. 
 
 There is something noble about the appearance of the 
 
 80
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND DOG! 
 
 With what majesty will he draw himsslf up, 
 as he looks with contempt upon the little spaniel which is 
 barking before him, as if he seemed to say to himself: "You 
 contemptible little puppy ! if it were not for disgracing my- 
 self, I would just lift up my great broad paw, and fetch you 
 such a box on the ear as would send you tumbling head
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 over heels into the gutter, that I would." Then he goes trotting 
 on again about his business, without bestowing another thought 
 on the snappish little spaniel that assailed him. What a good 
 understanding there seems to be between him and the children ! 
 What patience he displays while permitting them to pull and 
 haul him about, allowing them to tug at his long ears and cling 
 to his shaggy tail, as if they -would pull it off ! Who like him 
 to send of an errand with the basket in his mouth ? He would 
 beat half the little boys at carrying a heavy load ; and woe be to 
 the stranger who would dare to take any thing from him. As 
 to swimming across a river, or fetching any thing out that will 
 float, he is scarcely excelled by the thorough-bred water-dog. 
 Nor is he less valuable as a protector of property ; let but a 
 strange foot be heard about the premises he is set to watch, 
 during the night, and he will fly at the intruder in a 
 moment. 
 
 For a sweet temper and a forgiving disposition, there is no 
 dog to excel the Spaniel ; if chastised, it bears no malice, there 
 is not a particle of sulkiness about its nature ; give it but one 
 kind look, and all is forgotten, for then its delight seems to know 
 no bounds, and, to use an expressive phrase, it appears ready to 
 jump out of its skin for very joy. Shakspere in his beautiful 
 drama of the " Midsummer Night's Dream," makes mention 
 of the patient endurance, and unbroken attachment of the 
 spaniel, even under ill-usage and neglect, where he says, " spurn 
 me, strike me, neglect me, lose me, only give me leave to 
 follow you as your spaniel." Not only in the field, but by the 
 fireside, does it exhibit its willingness and devotion ; and there 
 are instances of its lying down, and dying upon the grave of its 
 master. Hitherto I have refrained from telling you any 
 anecdotes, illustrative of the sagacity and devotion of dogs, as 
 they are so numerous and interesting that it would be difficult 
 to take a selection from them. I must, however, give you one, 
 which was published in " Daniel's Rural Sports" many years 
 
 82
 
 THE SPANIEL. 
 
 ago, as fully showing the faithfulness and unceasing attachment 
 of the spaniel : 
 
 During the French Revolution, a worthy old magistrate 
 was dragged before the tribunal, under a charge of conspiracy. 
 He had a favourite water-spaniel, which followed him to the 
 gates of the prison, when the poor animal was driven back by 
 the gaoler, who would not permit it to enter. Although the 
 dog went back, and took refuge with a friend of his master's, 
 yet every day at a certain hour did he appear regularly before 
 the gates of the prison, where he remained for some time, 
 until, at last, his perseverance and fidelity won the attention of 
 the gaoler, and he was allowed to enter. The meeting between 
 the dog and his master we cannot describe. Those who have 
 witnessed the lively signs by which the spaniel evinces its 
 attachment, will endeavour to imagine it. The gaoler, fearful 
 that he might get into trouble for admitting the dog, was com- 
 pelled to carry it out of the prison ; but the next day it re- 
 turned, and on each succeeding day, it was admitted for a short 
 time. On the day of trial, in spite of the close wateh of the 
 soldiers, it got into the Hall, and lay crouched between its 
 master's legs. When the guillotine had done its work, and 
 the lifeless and headless body of its master lay stretched upon 
 the scaffold, it was again there for two nights and a day 
 was the dog missing, and when sought for by the friend with 
 whom it had taken shelter during its owner's imprisonment, 
 the spaniel was found stretched upon its master's grave. For 
 three months did this faithful dog come once a day, every 
 morning, to that friend, to receive its food, and all the rest of 
 the time was passed upon its master's grave. At length, the 
 spaniel refused to eat, and, for several hours before he died, he 
 employed his weakened limbs in scratching up the earth above 
 his master's grave ; and so he died ! in his last struggles en- 
 deavouring to reach the kind master to whom he was so 
 devotedly attached ! 
 
 F 2 83
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Surely such an anecdote as this proves that, in spite of 
 what Dr. Watts taught us in our infancy, dogs were made 
 for nobler purposes than only to " bark and bite ;" and, I trust, 
 after reading it, no boy will ever again ill-use a dog. I know 
 there is one great objection made to keeping these affectionate 
 animals, and that is, a dread of hydrophobia. But a dog, well 
 attended to, rarely goes mad, it is generally through having 
 been bitten by some other dog ; and when there are rumours of 
 such being in the neighbourhood, the safest plan is to keep 
 your own dog within doors, or to look narrowly after it when 
 it follows you abroad ; but, above all, to keep such as are of an 
 even temper, and that will neither snap nor bite, unless pro- 
 voked, and such are not at all difficult to find. Again re- 
 member, and never be unkind to a dog. 
 
 How pleasant it is to wander along the sea-shore, in the 
 early mornings and calm evenings of Autumn ; to look upon the 
 wide world of waters, dyed with every hue of heaven; and to 
 see the waves stretching out, like broad fields, in a distant 
 landscape here purple, there green, further on golden and 
 brown, like lands sleeping in the fallow, or fields covered 
 with the carpet which Summer throws over them, or yellow 
 over with the ripe and nodding ranks of Autumn corn; for 
 such are the changing hues of the ocean, when looked upon 
 in the distance beneath an Autumnal sky, as Byron has beau- 
 tifully described it in his inimitable poem entitled, " Childe 
 Harold," 
 
 " Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, 
 Comes down upon' its waters ; all its hues, 
 From the rich sunset to the rising star, 
 Their magical variety diffuse : 
 And now they change ; a paler shadow strews 
 Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day 
 Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues 
 With a new colour, as it gasps away. 
 The last still loveliest, till 'tis gone and all is gray."
 
 THE SEA. 
 
 Oh ! how refreshing and delightful it is 
 
 
 SAILING ON THE SEA, 
 
 at this season of the year: to feel the cool, cheerful breeze, 
 and hear the low murmuring of the waves, as they roll gently 
 upon the sparkling sand of the shore ; to see the broad water 
 stretching for miles away, until it seems to touch the sky, and you 
 cannot tell which is the ocean and which the cloud ; to watch 
 the dim outlines of huge ships in the distance now lost in the 
 purple haze, then gliding along, through a broad gateway of gold, 
 which streams for miles over the restless ridges of the molten 
 waves far, far away, till you might fancy that the ocean was 
 an immense desert, trackless and untrodden, and bounded only 
 by the low rim of the horizon ; to watch the slow, measured tread 
 of the waves, and time their regular march, as they step upon 
 the heels of each other, then throw their silver foam upon
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 the shore ; to walk below the tall white cliffs, on which a thou- 
 sand tempests have beaten, and enter the snow-white caverns 
 which have been washed by the waves of hundreds of winters. 
 Should you chance to be there earlier in the season of the year, 
 you might behold the fearless boys suspended from the giddy 
 summits of the cliffs by a rope, held by their bold companions, 
 who are taught to look upon the ocean as a nursing mother, 
 that will some day rock them to sleep, while their lullaby is sung 
 by the winds and the waves : or you might see some brave little 
 fellow, in his short jacket and loose trowsers, thrown off from 
 the tall promontory, above your head, and swing along the face 
 of the dizzy cliff, while he searches every hole and ci'anny, 
 wherever he thinks a bird is likely to build, regardless of 
 the avalanche of chalk, and loosened soil, that comes rattling 
 upon his hard head, as he is hauled up again by his laughing 
 companions. 
 
 Oh ! how pleasant it is to ramble along the sea-shore, and 
 gather the endless variety of shells which are every where 
 scattered upon the sand at your feet ; to gaze seaward, and 
 behold the tiny fishing-boats, riding from wave to wave, while 
 the drowsy sails flap idly to and fro, looking as if they traversed 
 the ocean in their sleep; onward to wander, to where the 
 bold, bluff headland has stepped forward from the receding 
 coast into the sea, as if anxious to be foremost in the strife, 
 and to meet the first bursting of the waves. 
 
 Beautiful appear those little villages, which every where 
 dot the sea-coast, wliile the tall spire points heavenward, and 
 the sabbath bell goes sounding far out into the wide and 
 open sea ! Peaceful does the whole scene look in sum- 
 mer-time ! Sweet sounds the murmur of the waters upon 
 the beach ; and pleasant appear the trees, as they sleep in the 
 sunshine upon the steep headland : pleasant, also, are those 
 clean, white cottages, through whose open lattices the sea- 
 breeze brings refreshing airs, that have been wafted from, 
 
 86
 
 SEA SIDE SCENERY. 
 
 many a distant and far-off land; while, at their base, the 
 waves ever break, in gushes of purple, and gold, and green 
 just as they are tinged by the various clouds which stoop over 
 the sea. From these healthy homes, the hardy children watch 
 the white sea-gulls, as they wheel and scream above the glassy 
 billows, in which their broad wings are mirrored. Oh ! how 
 delightful it is, to stand gazing upon the long pier, whose dark 
 piles (round which the clustering sea-weeds cling) step fearlessly 
 out into the deep swell of the waves: to listen to the glad 
 greetings, and the low adieus, of friends, as they land from, or 
 embark in, the ever-ready steamboats : to look backward upon 
 the seaport town, and behold the anxious faces which are ever 
 watching, from a hundred windows, seeking to pick out some 
 dear friend, from amongst the numerous passengers, whom 
 they can just perceive on the deck of the vessel, which is far 
 out on the distant sea. Then to think, that in those large 
 ships men can live upon the water for weeks and months toge- 
 ther, without ever once setting foot upon dry land : that some 
 sail away hundreds of miles into hot climates, where the heat 
 far exceeds the most sultry summer's day we ever breathed in ; 
 while others steer northward into cold, frozen seas, upon whose 
 waves ever float huge mountains of ice. One will soon hear 
 the roar of the lion from the scorching desert and the other, 
 the growl of the bear in the Polar seas. Oh ! how different to 
 the green villages and pastoral homesteads of peaceful England ! 
 And yet these happy cottages, that now seem to stand like the 
 abodes of peace, along the sea-shore, will, ere long, be shaken 
 by the stormy winds of winter ; and, in the dark nights, the 
 inhabitants will be alarmed by the firing of signal-guns of 
 distress ; and, perchance, the beautiful beach, on which we 
 are now walking, may be strewn with the wreck of some 
 goodly vessel, which, at this hour, is proudly sailing on the sea; 
 and lights will be seen glancing to and fro, and the fearless 
 lifeboat rocking upon the high-heaving billows, and pale forms,
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 with drenched hair, will be borne up that narrow pass between 
 the cliffs, while many, alas ! are left to sleep the sleep of death 
 beneath the waves ! 
 
 Pleasant it is to go out, with some brave old mariner, on 
 the sea, in a 
 
 SAILING-BOAT; 
 
 to ride along beneath the shadows of the tall cliffs, or past the 
 long, brown, sandy sea-shore, listening to the murmuring of the 
 waves, as they fall, with a sullen roar, upon the shingly beach. 
 Nor ought we to forget those who are exposed to the perils of 
 the great deep ; for to them we are indebted for many of the 
 comforts which we daily and hourly enjoy : for, nightly on 
 the ocean, tens of thousands sink to rest, humbly trusting to 
 that God who protects us on the land, for preserving them 
 while sinking to sleep upon the bosom of the great sea. 
 
 Many varieties of birds may be seen in the neighbourhood 
 of the sea. Great grey gulls, that hover above the cliffs, and 
 mingle their shrill scream with the unceasing dash of the 
 waves, as they wheel, with graceful motion, in the air. But 
 there is one which may be new to you ; it is called the Shel- 
 drake, or Burrow-duck, and is generally found near salt 
 water ; where this curious bird, instead of building a nest, fre- 
 quently deposits her eggs in some empty rabbit-burrow, or 
 hole in the bank. It shows great affection towards its young, 
 and when they are hatched at any distance from the water,
 
 THE SHELDEAKE. 
 
 she will carry them to it in her bill, for they are able to swim 
 when they have only escaped from the shell a few days. It 
 chiefly feeds upon marine insects, sea-weeds, and small shell- 
 fish. The 
 
 SHELDRAKE 
 
 is beautifully marked. The bill is red ; the crown and back 
 of the head a greenish black ; the back white ; and the breast 
 varied with a beautiful belt of bay colour, narrowing as it 
 passes under the wings, and surrounding the lower part of 
 the neck behind. The wings are black and white, and some 
 of the larger plumes of a glossy green, tinged with the colour 
 of copper. Its motions in the water are very graceful ; and 
 there are but few prettier sights, than to sit on a bank and 
 watch the sheldrake, as she sails about, surrounded by her 
 young. If the eggs are taken away, and hatched under a 
 hen, the young ones become tame, and are a great ornament 
 to ponds or lakes. The eggs are white, and about the same 
 size as those of the common duck. 
 
 I dare say you have often heard of the yarns which old 
 sailors spin, and how little truth there is in many of them. 
 The one I am about to narrate, has just enough of the " possi-
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 ble " in it, to suppose that such an adventure might befall any 
 one, though for my part I should be very reluctant to avouch for 
 its truth. But I must tell it you as a relief to the long narra- 
 tions I have given you on woods, and wilds, and green country- 
 places ; and sorry I am, that I cannot narrate it in the graphic 
 manner of Bill, the old sailor, who had spent so many years of 
 his life on the sea, and, above all things, delighted to tell us his 
 strange tales, and hairbreadth escapes on the ocean, which at 
 times partook so much of the marvellous, that even the country 
 people, who will almost believe any thing, used to say, "That's 
 too big for us, we can't swallow that, Billy." He used to tell 
 them, that once while he was aloft, helping to reef the sails, he 
 chanced to tumble head first overboard. There was a rope 
 hanging down the side of the ship, Billy would say, and before 
 any one was aware of it, I laid hold of the rope, pulled myself 
 up, and popped in at one of the portholes. I heard them 
 lower the boat, and haul in the canvas to check the head- way 
 of the ship ; and then I heard the Captain say, " Poor Billy ! 
 he's told his last lie he's gone." " Has he ? " thought I, " we 
 shall see!" and I began to peep about me, and found I'd got 
 into the store-room. I saw a lot of new sails rolled up in a 
 corner, " That'll do for a bed," thought I ; there was plenty of 
 beef, biscuits, cheese, barrels of ale, porter, every thing " I can't 
 be in better quarters," thought I, and then I began to ask my- 
 self a few questions. " Billy," said I, " you can't be better off 
 than where you are ; the ship will be, at least, a fortnight before 
 she reaches the end of her voyage, and if you come out, Billy, 
 you'll have to work as hard as any other man in the ship ; and 
 if you were to fall overboard again, Billy, perhaps you would n't 
 escape so well next time ; so I think you can 't be better off 
 than where you are." Well, I thought I couldn't do better 
 than take the advice I 'd given myself. I 'd the very best of 
 every thing to eat and drink, a good bed to sleep upon and what 
 more could I desire ? I could hear them scrubbing the decks.
 
 A SEA SIDE TARN. 
 
 and taking in the sails, and running about overhead ; and very 
 comfortable it was I can assure you, to peep out of the port- 
 holes, and look upon the sea, and lead quite a gentleman's life, 
 and never do a hand's-turn of any thing. But the fortnight 
 soon passed over ; and one day, I heard the man who had the 
 look-out, cry, "Land a-head!" "Oh! oh!" thought I, "it's 
 time I packed up my traps, and started off, if it 's come to this," 
 for I knew we were near the end of the voyage. I was a good 
 swimmer, and, as the sea was now calm, I let myself gently 
 down out of the port-hole, and dropped behind the stern of 
 the ship, when I began to holla out as loudly as ever I could, 
 1 Throw me a rope ! throw me a rope !" They, thinking it was 
 one of the sailors who had fallen overboard, threw out a rope 
 in an instant and I was hauled on deck in a twinkling ; you 
 should have seen how they stared at me ! " Why," said the 
 Captain, " you fell overboard above a thousand miles off, a fort- 
 night ago!" "What of that?" said I, "I got into a good 
 strong current, had a favourable wind, and perseverance and 
 courage does wonders." "But what did you live on?" says 
 he. " Sharks, dolphins, and such like things," says I ; "any- 
 thing I could catch. One of the latter gentlemen took me 
 in tow for two or three hundred miles, same as he did Jack 
 Amphion that we read about you remember it a good many 
 years ago." They all thought it very strange, and the crew 
 used to look at me out of the corners of their eyes, as if to 
 say, what a fib ! but they knew no more about where I had been 
 to than a marling-spike. 
 
 Well, you know, at last we landed, and one evening while 
 the Captain was at supper with the Governor of the Island, he 
 happened to tell him about my falling overboard, being out at 
 sea for a fortnight, and swimming after the ship for a thousand 
 miles. " I Ve got a black nigger," says the Governor, " that 
 I'll back to swim against him for a hundred pounds." " Done," 
 said the Captain, and he accepted the bet. A pretty way I was
 
 AUTUMH. 
 
 in when he told me ; for I 'd heard of the black fellow, and I 
 knew I stood no chance with him. " Never mind, Captain," 
 said I, " you shall win" but how I didn't know. I made up 
 my mind to run away, but the Captain was too deep he 'd set a 
 watch over me" I must brazen it out," thought I ; and so I did. 
 Next morning J went ashore in a boat, and there was the black 
 fellow kicking up his heels on the sand, and saying, " Come 
 along, massa, me beat you me beat you!" "Stop a bit, 
 blacky," said I, as I began to strip ; when ready I asked my 
 messmates to roll me the two large casks out of the boat. They 
 did ; and Sambo, rolling up the whites of his eyes, said, " What 
 for massa want casks ?" " What for?" said I, " do you think I'm 
 going out to swim for a fortnight without taking a good stock of 
 beef and biscuits with me." " Swim for two week," stammered 
 Sambo, and off he ran somewhere into the island, and was never 
 heard of afterwards. The Captain won. 
 "Hey! hey! Billy," the 
 
 FISHERMEN ON THE BEACH 
 
 would exclaim, " the Captain and the crew, too, must have been 
 land-lubbers to have swallowed such a yarn as you spun them. 
 I wonder you did n't meet with a mermaid, and bring her on 
 board with you, one would have been about as likely as the 
 other." But Billy cared not for such remarks as those, and he 
 was a great favourite amongst the fishermen, and the villagers 
 who dwelt beside the sea-shore. 
 
 92
 
 COUNTRY FAIR. 
 
 Autumn was always a grand season with us, for it brought 
 with it our great Michaelmas Fair, with all its shows, wild- 
 beasts, horse-riders, waxworks, tumblers, giants, dwarfs, and 
 wild Indians ; to see which we had long saved up our money, and 
 often talked about those we should visit, and wondered if suph 
 and such caravans would come again, and on what day, and hdte 
 far we should go out of town to meet them. Oh ! a busy time 
 with us boys was that great Michaelmas Fair. First we had to 
 go out and meet the shows, and we believed that each of those 
 large caravans contained all the wild beasts that were painted 
 on the front ; and then what a delight it was to hear the great 
 lion roar, every now and then, as they came along, while the 
 tiger made answer ! and to talk about what we should do if they 
 broke loose, and to wonder whether or not they would eat us, 
 or a bullock first, if we ran behind one. Then there was the 
 pleasure of seeing them draw up in the great Mart-yard, as the 
 large space was called, in which the shows had stood for many 
 years ; to watch them wheel up one against the other, until 
 they formed an immense square ; to see the butchers bring 
 huge barrows full of beef, and to listen, as the raw joints were 
 thrown into their dens, and hear them growl, and roar, and 
 gnaw the bones ; all the while wondering what this and that 
 was, and trying to peep through some little hole to discover it. 
 But the great marvel of all was the caravan that contained the 
 elephant ; oh ! such wheels ! it always came last they said, 
 and filled up the ruts, and by so doing freed the whole proces- 
 sion of paying toll : then it was drawn by eight or ten horses, 
 and with the caravan weighed I know not how many tons. 
 Then there was the preparation for opening, digging holes, 
 and setting up poles, as high as trees, such a hammering, and 
 rearing of ladders, and bringing in bags of sawdust, and hoist- 
 ing up great rolls of canvas, on which we knew were painted 
 lions, tigers, leopards, zebras, antelopes, hyenas, wolves, bears, 
 crocodiles, elephants, ostriches, pelicans, eagles, vultures, which 
 
 93
 
 AUTUMN. - 
 
 we were not allowed to see until the real fair-day came ; though 
 some were not rolled up so closely, but we could occasionally 
 make out a part of the name, the top of a palm-tree, or a moun- 
 tain, and read the gilt title of " The unfortunate Major Monro, 
 who was carried away by the royal striped Bengal tiger," and 
 we believe, eaten up at one meal. Then there were the king's 
 beef-eaters, who went round the town on horseback, in dresses 
 of crimson and gold, with such music as we believed only real 
 royal beef-eaters could play : great trombones that went in and 
 out, and a big green serpent, and bugles, and trumpets full of 
 keys, which only wild-beast men understood we gazed in as- 
 tonishment, and wondered however they knew, out of so many, 
 where to place their fingers. 
 
 Next came the horse-ridel's, men who could as easily stand 
 on their heads as their feet, while the horse went round the 
 ring at a brisk canter; who could leap through a hoop, and 
 over a riding- whip, backwards or forwards ; and all of whom we 
 believed to be double-jointed. Oh ! what tales they used to 
 tell us, about their being kept in hogsheads of oil whilst young, 
 and sleeping in oily sheets as they grew old, to make their 
 joints easy, and soften their bones, until they could, with ease, 
 have coiled themselves up in a bandbox ! and we, simpletons 
 that we were, believed almost every thing that the bigger boys 
 told us, from the tale of the man who could dance on the 
 slack rope on his head, to that of the Indian youth, who could 
 hang by the edge of a single tooth on the slack wire : and I 
 know not, now, whether such stories gave the inventors or the 
 listeners the greatest pleasure ! 
 
 But the front of the tumbling and conjuring booth, was, 
 after all, the place to witness the greatest wonders; where the 
 clown swallowed burning flax, as easily as he would have done 
 a buttered bun, drew ribbons out of his mouth by the yard, and 
 filled a basket with eggs out of an empty bag. Ah ! those 
 were wonderful things, until we discovered the secret of how
 
 COUJfTRY FAIR. 
 
 they were done, and then we only felt sorry that they were so 
 simple and easy. And, oh ! the wonderful pony inside, which 
 when asked to find out the greatest rogue present, invariably 
 came to his own master ; and when sent round to discover which 
 boy liked his bed better than his book, would, in spite of all the 
 fillips we gave him on the nose when he attempted to stop, 
 pick out some one from amongst us whom he caused to blush 
 to the very ears. 
 
 Then came the grand tragedians, the stately kings, and royal 
 queens, who walked about the stage outside, amid men in ar- 
 mour, and the ghost with the white chalked countenance ! Ah ! 
 it was something like to see those perform ; to witness the king 
 seated on his throne; to behold the queen kneeling at his feet; 
 to see him arise, and, as he folded his arms and knit his lamp- 
 blacked brows, exclaim, " Away with the traitor to the Tower!" 
 Anon to hear the bell sound, and see the scaffold prepared, 
 and look upon the grim headsman as he stood beside the 
 block, with the axe in his hand ; then to see the queen kneel 
 again for the last time, and, when her tears were of no avail, 
 give the crowned tyrant a touch in the side that seemed to kill 
 him ; while the knights in armour fought, and the town was set 
 on fire, and the man with the chalked face popped up out of a 
 trap-door in the midst of it, and said something which put 
 them all to rights in no time. Nor was it less wonderful to 
 see the king and queen walking together outside, arm in arm, 
 a few minutes afterwards, just as friendly as ever, and the ghost 
 chatting with them as familiarly as if he had never smelt sul- 
 phur, or stood in the midst of that awful mass of sky-blue flame. 
 
 Nor must I forget the peep-shows, with the green curtains 
 that covered us in, the views which we saw magnified, bat- 
 tles on land and sea, processions, and shipwrecks, the falls of 
 Niagara, that moved when the old woman turned a handle, 
 and seemed to come rushing down a height of at least six feet. 
 Then the mischievous monkey that was perched outside, and
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 that ate almost every thing we offered him : and all to he seen 
 for the small charge of one penny ; with something else, I forget 
 what, for another penny, worth it all either a pig-faced lady, 
 or a mermaid, or a wild man of the prairie, just according to 
 the number who paid, and waited whilst her husband changed 
 himself into either the one or the other, for the old impostor 
 personified the whole three. Oh! how they did deceive us 
 boys at times ! But, at last, this secret got blown abroad ; and 
 taking two or three of our larger comrades with us, we divested 
 the savage Indian of his club, pulled off his horsehair wig 
 and black mask, and found underneath the little man, 
 named plain John Thompson, who owned the wife, and the 
 peep-show, and never more in our town ventured to appear as 
 either the pig-faced lady, or the mermaid. By the aid of a 
 stout uncle, whom we had let into the secret of our suspicion, 
 we hauled him outside on the front of the very little stage, 
 sounded the gong and beat the drum, the monkey jabbering 
 all the while, and the wife abusing us with all her might ; and 
 there we compelled the savage Indian to show himself gratis, 
 having divested him of his mask and India-rubber gloves ; 
 while, with the palest face in the group, he begged pardon and 
 threatened to prosecute us in the same breath. But instead 
 of a warrant next morning, which he had vowed to take out, 
 John Thompson and his peep-show had vanished, and we never 
 beheld either the pig-faced lady, the wonderful mermaid, nor 
 the savage Indian from the prairie again. Uncle William 
 often laughed, and said, that " there were more difficult 
 things to be done in the world, than to turn a black man 
 white." A similar impostor was found out at the Egyptian 
 Hall, only a few months ago, who came out under the startling 
 inquiry of, " What is it ?" 
 
 Then, there were the gingerbread-stalls, stretching away 
 to I cannot tell you how far, they extended to such a dis- 
 tance. I never see such great gilt King Georges on horseback 
 
 96
 
 COUNTRY FAIR. 
 
 now as were made out of gingerbread in those days. The 
 moulds in which they formed the great stage-wagon, with its 
 four horses ; the cock, with his richly-gilt tail ; the old watch- 
 man, whose lantern we always ate last are all broken up or 
 lost, and there is not an idea left, or a pleasant fancy to be 
 found, in the flat, round, unmeaning gingerbread-nuts which 
 are sold in the present day. The " Only genuine Stalls" have 
 vanished ; I miss the gi'eat round circle of wooden horses, of 
 all colours, where we could, for a halfpenny, select either a 
 black, bay, gray, or chestnut, all saddled and bridled ready for 
 mounting, with chairs fastened here and there for the lesser 
 children, who were too little to mount those fierce-looking 
 wooden steeds ; while we were whirled round, with merry shout 
 and loud laughter, by the poorer boys, who worked inside of the 
 circle, like horses in a mill; and, after having shoved, and 
 turned, and perspired for a given time, they, too, had a ride for 
 their reward. Then, to what a height the boat-swings were sent, 
 in those days ! When up, we could see over all the fair, could 
 look down upon the stalls and the crowds of people on all the 
 hubbub of tin-trumpets, and penny rattles, and shrill whistles, 
 and hollow-sounding drums, and queer nameless things, tied 
 to strings, which, when swung round, made a buzzing noise 
 like to a swarm of bees. Then, amongst the old-fashioned 
 toys, there was Jack-in-the-box, who popped up every time you 
 opened it ; and snakes that came out such a length! and funny 
 old women who churned ; and ten-bells in a box that turned 
 with a handle, and was sure to get out of tune after it had been 
 in use an hour or two ; for what boy could ever leave off, or 
 resist lending it, whilst it made such funny music. And oh ! 
 the tables with white cocks and black cocks, and figures which, 
 if the pointed arrow we whirled round stopped over, entitled 
 us to as many nuts as the number below. How often did we 
 try at the hundred, and come only at the one, yet so near that 
 we were tempted to risk another halfpenny ; for the old man
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 with the wooden leg was so encouraging, and never failed to 
 cry out, " Try again ; very near ; better luck next time, my 
 boys." What things were to be won, if we could but knock 
 them off the sticks, and so cheap ! six things for a penny 
 musical pears, and a nice little box ; such a handsome pin- 
 cushion! and a knife that, to look at, any boy would have 
 given a shilling for it. Then, the boy that belonged to the 
 man who owned all these treasures would try for nothing, 
 to let us see how easy it was ; and down he would knock the 
 knife, and the box, and the musical pear, without one of them 
 dropping into the hole, where, if they fell, they were claimed by 
 the owner. Oh, it looked so easy, that we must try ; so we did ; 
 and, alas ! all the prizes invariably fell into the hole, as we shied 
 away our pence and got nothing, so hurried off again to see the 
 shows. We visited the giant, and the fat boy, and the dwarf, 
 whose arm we had seen hanging out of the little wooden house, 
 as he rang a bell from the upper window. We saw the fat ox, 
 and the wonderful calf with five legs, and the sheep with two 
 heads, and the man who swallowed a sword ; all of which were 
 things to be talked about for days and weeks after the fair was 
 over. But the conjurer the cups and balls the brick under- 
 neath the hat that was changed into a Guinea-pig the shilling 
 that found its way back into the gentleman's pocket, after he 
 had lent it to the conjurer ah ! these were marvels, and set 
 us wondering for months after, and trying, but in vain, to do 
 them ourselves. Then, there was the nierry-andrew, so witty, 
 who cared no more about a horsewhipping than if he had been 
 beaten with a feather ; and oh, how we laughed when he sold 
 a simple old country-woman a penny packet of his flea-powder, 
 which he warranted to destroy fleas : when, in answer to her 
 question of how she was to apply it, he bade her first catch the 
 flea, then force a very small portion of the powder down its 
 throat; and when she answered, that it would be the least 
 trouble to kill it at once, without giving the flea the powder, to
 
 COUNTKT FAIB. 
 
 hear him say, that there certainly was some reason in what she 
 said. They might tell us that the old woman and he were in 
 league together ; that it was all done to get up a laugh : but no, 
 we will not think so ; it looked too natural for that. But this 
 was nothing to the trick two cunning rogues played off upon 
 us, and got our pennies to buy drink with. First, they took 
 the green-baize table-covering from out the parlour of the 
 tavern, and hung it up before the stable-door, over which they 
 had written, in chalk, " To be seen within, that Wonderful Ani- 
 mal the WOBSER!" What could it be? we had never heard 
 such a name before. Where did it come from? The man 
 who took the pennies at the stable-door said, out of the clouds. 
 The stable very soon filled, when a truly drunken, waggish- 
 looking fellow, holding up a dog so poor that we could count 
 every rib in its body, inquired, if it was not a very bad one. 
 There was no denying but that it was. " Then, gentlemen," 
 said he, pulling out the naked skeleton of another dog from 
 under his smock-frock, "this is a WORSEB;" and away he ran 
 out at a side door. There was no help for it ; we had paid 
 money, and seen a worser the very name had taken us in ; 
 and all we could do was to stand and laugh at each other. 
 One old man said, the joke was worth a penny ; but we could 
 hardly see that : however, we were taken in, and laughed at 
 by every body who had not, like us, paid for peeping. Many 
 such tricks are played off in this world, and much may be 
 learned from the " sights" to be seen at a country fair ; for, 
 unless we are wary, we shall be cheated by deeper jugglers 
 than we meet with there ; for there are those who are ever on 
 the look-out, with their sleight-of-hand tricks, to practise upon 
 the simple and the unwary, and soon convince us how much 
 truth there is in the old, homely proverb, which says, " All is 
 not gold that glitters." Not that I would wish to awaken a 
 feeling of suspicion in your bosoms against every one with 
 whom you may chance to come in contact, or think the worse of 
 
 G'i 99
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 the world because some merry vagabond does now and then cheat 
 you out of your money, and then laugh in your face. Expe- 
 rience must be purchased ; and when once we have bought it 
 rather dear, let us be more guarded over the next bargain. A 
 good-natured lad, who is once or twice cleverly taken in, will, 
 without a feeling of anger, join in the laugh which is raised 
 against himself. A trick or two may be overlooked; but a 
 succession of them, played off on the same individual, would 
 lay him open to the suspicion of being rather foolish ; and it 
 would not enhance his worldly wisdom, in the estimation of his 
 companions, if he went to see a " WOESEB" a second time. 
 Above all things remember that gambling, on ever so small a 
 scale, or however amusing or trifling it may appear, is bad, and 
 has led to the ruin of many a one who little dreamed of its 
 pernicious principles, when he first commenced it, amid the 
 sports and pastimes of a Country Fair. 
 
 From the Country Fair to the rivers we must now turn ; for 
 during this season there may be heard a low twittering amongst 
 the willows, which announces that the Swallows have begun 
 to assemble together, and are about to set out on their long 
 journey to some sunnier climate. Within the space occu- 
 pied by only two or three fields, we have seen thousands of 
 these birds collected together. They occupied the same situ- 
 ation for many days, invariably wheeling off every morning 
 early in separate divisions, in search of food, and returning to 
 the same place to roost early in the evening, always bringing 
 with them an additional company. The habits of the swallow 
 tribe are very interesting; and but few birds have attracted the 
 attention of our naturalists so much as they have done. From 
 their first appearance in the Spring, when only one or two 
 were to be seen occasionally skimming over the surface of the 
 river, to the building of their nests, rearing of their young, 
 and up to the period of their migration, their habits have 
 
 been narrowly watched from year to year ; and as I shall have 
 100
 
 SWALLOWS. 
 
 to draw your attention towards the building, and breeding, of so 
 many birds in that portion of my work which will be dedicated 
 to a description of Spring, I shall take advantage of this 
 almost songless season, to tell you all I think most interesting 
 about the swallows. You have all of you, at one time or 
 another, observed the swallow commencing its nest under the 
 eaves, beside the windows, or at any projecting point of a 
 building which it may have selected. It is an early riser, and 
 commences its work soon after daylight in the morning, seldom 
 building up more than half an inch or so at a time, then spend- 
 ing the rest of the day in flying about and searching for food, 
 so that the work may become thoroughly dry before it is again 
 proceeded with on the following day ; for if the nest was 
 formed as rapidly as the bird could build it, the very weight of 
 the moist dirt, which it is compelled to use, would, through be- 
 coming top-heavy, fall to the ground, and so the bird would be 
 forced to commence its work afresh. To prevent this, it only 
 erects a small portion each day, thus allowing one layer to be- 
 come thoroughly dry before another is placed upon it. It is 
 curious to watch them at work, plastering away with their 
 chins, and moving their heads to and fro with a rapid motion, 
 clinging firmly to the brickwork with their claws, and also 
 resting a portion of their weight on their broad outspread tail. 
 Very often, during rainy weather, the cement which forms 
 their nests becomes soft, and they fall to the ground; and, 
 although this may happen when they chance to have young 
 ones, which are all killed by the fall, yet so partial are these 
 birds to one spot, that they will again commence building their 
 nests in the same situation. Sometimes they will begin 
 several nests without finishing any one but the last, which, 
 when once completed, often serves for years. Many people 
 are so partial to the swallow building upon their houses, 
 that they have erected ledges for them, to build their nests 
 upon. Some have let shells into the walls, and found pleasure
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 in watching the little bird build a buttress, or prop, beneath 
 the shell to strengthen it, before commencing to erect its nest 
 on the shell. Others, again, have rubbed the places, where the 
 swallows were in the habit of building, with oil and soft soap, 
 to prevent their nests from adhering to the eaves and walls. 
 Such, you see, is the difference of taste, which there is no 
 accounting for ; though I should have preferred those for my 
 friends and neighbours, could I have had my choice, who 
 encouraged the birds to build about their houses, sooner than 
 those who drove them away. 
 
 The swallow has always been one of my favourites amongst 
 birds. When a child, I have watched them for hours while 
 they erected their nests ; they were my companions when I 
 strolled along the river-banks to angle. I loved to see their 
 shadows flashing across the water, like a ray of light to hear 
 their twitter on the eaves, in the early morning, long before I 
 arose to watch their young ones, perched in a row, and try- 
 ing their little wings, for the first time, for flight. Then, to 
 see them again gathered together, in Autumn, amongst the 
 willows, beside my native Trent, from Ashcroft up to Lea 
 Marsh, and all round by No-Man 's-Friend, and far away to 
 where the old chapel of Burton looked into the river every 
 bush and bank seemed alive with them, as if all the swallows 
 in England had assembled together, in that spot, to chat 
 together, for a few days, before they took their departure. 
 And I have sometimes fancied that they said, " I wish the win- 
 ters in England were not so cold ; I don't like to leave the coun- 
 try where I have built my home, and reared my young. True 
 the Italian skies are brighter, and the African air warmer; 
 but there are no such sweet rivers there, no fields so pleasant, 
 smelling in summer of sweet hay, and, until within these few 
 weeks, yellow over with golden corn ; no nice, comfortable, 
 thatched eaves to build under, such as we find here in the 
 
 English villages, which are surrounded with trees; no such 
 102
 
 FITFH OF NOVEMBEK. 
 
 beautiful old spires to play round, arid chase one another, 
 when the rosy clouds of evening hang all about the sky ; no 
 sounds abroad so sweet as the voices of the cottage children in 
 England, singing to please themselves, as we do, whilst they 
 wander along the green lanes, and beside the pleasant hedge- 
 rows, that divide one lovely meadow from another but let us 
 not complain : a few months will soon roll over ; and when we 
 return again, the pastures will be white with daisies ; there will 
 be violets and primroses upon the banks, and the cottage- 
 dames will smile when they hear our voices upon the thatched 
 roofs ; the villagers will begin to dress up their gardens 
 again ; and every body will exclaim, ' The swallows and 
 Spring have returned once more to our shores.' " 
 
 Autumn brought with it the Fifth of November ; a busy day 
 to boys in the country, and one for which we had made great 
 preparation. Oh ! you should have seen us make the Guy 
 what planning and contriving was there going on then, what 
 old scarecrows were brought to light, that had vanished a 
 month or two before from the corn-fields nobody could tell 
 how ! What stuffing and cramming there was to make him sit 
 upright, to get his arm round, to bend his knees, and make his 
 legs hang down as he sat in the chair, to prop up his head and 
 make him look like the real Guy, who had courage enough to 
 attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament ! I never see 
 such Guys now as we were wont to make. Stephen Grey would 
 lend us his great jack-boots, which he wore when he went out 
 to shoot wild geese and wild ducks in the marshes, on con- 
 dition that we pulled them off and returned them safe, before 
 we burnt Guy Fawkes in the evening. Then old Eollett, who 
 had been a captain in the volunteers, would lend us his sword, 
 and sash, and feather, as he had many a time done ; and out of 
 the three or four hats we had taken from the different scare- 
 crows, we were enabled to make our Guy, a real, tall, steeple 
 crowned one, such as we had seen on his head in the old 
 
 103
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 engravings in the History of England. As for a lantern, and 
 a mask, and a bunch of matches, these were easily procured ; 
 and -what with the hits of red and yellow cloth we had cut into 
 stars, and medals, why we made such a grand, military, fierce 
 looking Guy, that as old Dame Pindar once said, " She should 
 not like to meet him walking along the lane that led to 
 her cottage on a dark night, without her Lance was with her." 
 He wanted neither for wig, nor mustaches ; and as for his coat, 
 we covered every rent which the wind and the rain had made 
 in the corn-field, with gaudy decorations, made, when nothing 
 better could be had, of richly-coloured paper. Then when we 
 had finished him, and mounted him on the chair, what running 
 there was to and fro, to fetch this and that farmer to look! and 
 proud we were when their wives came, and brought their chil- 
 dren, and held them up at arm's length, while we pointed out 
 the stiffness of his white paper collar, and the frill that stood 
 out at the front of his coat, which even the little knock-kneed 
 tailor said was a capital fit, considering we had only straw and 
 hay to make him from. What running in and out of the barn 
 there was with the lantern to show our Guy to every new 
 comer ! what talk about the coming morrow ! what reluctance to 
 go to bed, and when once there, what difficulty there was to go 
 to sleep ! We never dreamed of any body breaking open the 
 barn or granary door, to steal a few quarters of corn ; but we 
 had our fears that robbers might come in the night and carry 
 off our Guy, for that we knew would be something worth steal- 
 ing ; and many a time did we get up and look out during the 
 night, and with the first streak of morning light, bound down, 
 too impatient to even unlock the door, but peeping through 
 the crevice, with beating heart, were glad to find that he was 
 still there. 
 
 Then the journeys we had to take to the great farmhouses, 
 which were scattered here and there about the fields ! the diffi- 
 culty we had to get him over the stiles ! the dignity with which 
 
 104
 
 FIFTH OF NOVEMBER. 
 
 we bore him into the farmyard! and the jealous -watch we 
 kept whilst refreshing ourselves in the huge kitchen, for fear 
 any one should run away with him ! Ay ! those were some- 
 thing like Guy Fawkes days, for we knew ever}* farmerwe visited ; 
 and in every house found a warm welcome ; and the old grand- 
 mother would rise from her wicker-chair, beside the ingle, and 
 take her horn-tipped staff in her hand, and give her spectacles 
 an extra rub as she went out to take a survey ; while she told 
 us what Guys she had seen fifty years ago, and what a holiday 
 the Fifth of November was then, when every body, who had any 
 religion at all, went to church in the morning, and helped to 
 burn Guy Fawkes at night ;. and how the old parish-clerk com- 
 posed a new psalm for that day, as he thought the old one was 
 not good enough ; and that when he got up to give it out, none 
 of them could sing for laughing, as he had made the last line 
 much too short, and to eke it out was compelled to say, 
 
 " "Twas on this day, this very day, 
 
 When villains did conspire, 
 To blow up the House of Parliament, 
 With gun-de-pow-de-hire." 
 
 "What a glorious night it was ! what torches we had made ! 
 what grease and tar we had preserved for the occasion ! what 
 old rope was lighted, that but for the colour of the tar, looked 
 very much like new ! And all round the village-green, the 
 bonfire flashed, dancing in golden rays upon the windows, and 
 lighting up the tall trees, and throwing out many a white- 
 washed wall and thatched outhouse, which on other nights 
 slept in deep shadow ; and oh ! what secret hoards of fuel were 
 from time to time brought out, which had been hidden for 
 weeks between the hollows of hay-stacks, and in dry barns, 
 and sheds, which stood out in the fields : many a paling that 
 had hung loose beside a garden, and many a stake and post, 
 that had once done sendee by gate or hedge, were slily shoved 
 under the burning pile, white ones coloured black, and black 
 
 105
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 white, and so changed and chopped, that even the very owners, 
 who looked on, were unable to recognise them. Then there 
 were the different kinds of crackers to let off those which we 
 threw down, and threw up ; serpents that hissed, and rockets 
 that went off when they pleased, and not when we wanted 
 them. And oh ! what filing had we done before-hand ! in 
 every old key we had made a touch-hole, and fastened them 
 on sticks ; and cleaned up all our brass cannon, and made fire- 
 works of our own, that never would light at the right place, but 
 went off all over at once, causing us to jump again with as- 
 tonishment; and sometimes one got an eyebrow singed, and 
 another had his hair set on fire ; yet, maugre such little 
 accidents as these, no serious harm ever occurred, for there 
 were generally a few older heads near at hand, to see that we 
 did not go far wrong. Poor old Sammy Sprintall was sure to 
 be there smoking his pipe, and I well remember how we 
 managed to get him to lay his pipe down, and do something 
 at the bonfire for us ; we took up his pipe, and placing tobacco 
 at the bottom, and a small portion of gunpowder in the middle, 
 over which tobacco was again crammed, how we watched 
 him light it, and beheld him smoking away, until the ash 
 burnt down to the powder, when bang it went, splitting the 
 pipe-head into shivers, and fortunately doing him no harm ; 
 nor have I forgotten the thrashing the boy received who did it, 
 and how grave we all looked, when told that it might have 
 burst in old Sammy's face, and either cut or blinded him 
 for ever. But we had never thought of this, and it was 
 only afterwards that we saw how wrong we had acted. Such 
 was our Guy Fawkes day in the country, nearly a quarter of a 
 century ago; but a great change has taken place of late, and 
 bonfires are now forbidden ; and, perhaps, in another century 
 or two, the cry will no longer be heard of, 
 
 " Please to remember, 
 
 The fifth of November." 
 106
 
 THE WATER SHREW. 
 
 If we keep a sharp look out, whilst wandering beside 
 some large pond, we may chance to see the 
 
 LAND AND WATER SHREW; 
 
 the latter of which is a most beautiful little animal, with 
 its back as black and glossy as velvet, while underneath, 
 it is a clean, clear white. Look at its sharp snout, and 
 long whiskers, and broad feet, so admirably adapted for 
 swimming ! You should see its back sometimes in the water, 
 looking as if it was covered all over with transparent 
 pearls; then, in an instant, as smooth and dry as if it had 
 never wetted a single hair. Its motions are very graceful 
 whilst diving and swimming, appearing at the top one mo- 
 ment, and seeming to oar itself along by its hinder feet, the 
 tail extending out like a rudder, and turning every way as it 
 turns, now here, now there ; snatching at one moment some 
 little insect from a floating leaf, then plunging under water 
 and seeking its prey amongst the aquatic weeds at the bot- 
 tom. When danger is at hand, it either runs into the hole 
 
 107
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 in the bank, and enters its little nest ; or dives to the bottom 
 for safety, where it cannot, however, remain long : and, by 
 watching narrowly, you are sure to see its sharp snout 
 appear again on the surface. It will amuse itself, for a 
 long time, by swimming round some leaf, or drooping spray, 
 that dips into the stream ; and its smooth, silky sides seem 
 to broaden out as it glides to and fro in the most beautiful 
 attitudes that can be imagined. It is often pursued by the 
 weasel, when, instead of running into its nest for safety, it 
 plunges beneath the water; and, although the weasel is a 
 good swimmer, he has no taste for diving, and so the little 
 water-shrew escapes. 
 
 The Common Shrew, or Land Shrew, which every 
 country-boy is familiar with, is another interesting object ; 
 and may be met with in almost every corner of England ; 
 and you seldom meet with two together, without finding them 
 fighting. Shut a couple up in a box over night, and you 
 will invariably discover, next morning, that one has killed and 
 nearly eaten up the other. It is a great destroyer of insects 
 and worms ; and, if you look at its sharp-pointed nose, you 
 will see how well it is adapted for rooting up the earth in 
 search of its prey. Pretty and clean as it looks, and really is, 
 it has, in spite of its pleasing appearance, a most disagreeable 
 smell, strong and rank, and such as no one would like to have 
 a house perfumed with; the very mustiest of all objectionable 
 musks; so bad, indeed, that, although cats will lull them 
 readily enough, they will not eat them. Some naturalists be- 
 lieve that the common shrew is eagerly devoured by the mole, 
 and that wherever a colony of moles pitch their encampment, 
 if the neighbourhood has before been infested by the shrew- 
 mouse, one is seldom to be seen after the moles have bur- 
 rowed there. This poor harmless animal was looked upon 
 with great horror by our forefathers : they believed that if a 
 little shrew-mouse only ran over their feet, it produced lame- 
 
 108
 
 THE LAND SHREW. 
 
 ness ; and Gilbert White, in his " History of Selbourne," 
 says : " At the south corner of the playground, near the 
 church, there stood, about twenty years ago (seventy now), a 
 very old ash-tree, which had been pollard, that is, the top 
 branches had been chopped off ; and this tree was called the 
 Shrew-ash." Now a Shrew-ash is a tree whose twigs, or 
 branches, when applied to cattle, was believed to give ease to 
 the pains any animal might suffer from the shrew-mouse having 
 run over the parts supposed to have been infected ; for our fore- 
 fathers were so foolish that they believed if the poor harmless 
 shrew ran over the leg of a horse, cow, or sheep, the animal so 
 run over, would lose the use of the leg the poor mouse had 
 been so unfortunate as to run over. Well, to prevent, or cure, 
 this dreaded, complaint, they bored a large hole into the ash 
 tree, beside the playground, and into this hole they put a little 
 shrew-mouse alive ! ! ! then plugged up the hole again, leaving 
 the poor harmless thing to die in the dark hole they had bored 
 and plugged up in the ash. Was not this a cruel deed and a 
 foolish act ? to think that poor little shrew-mouse could impart 
 any virtue, or charm, or healing power, to the twigs of that old 
 ash ; or that such a small creature could do any more harm to a 
 horse, or a cow, or a man, by running over their legs, than a fly 
 would had it settled down on the same place ! Fancy our silly 
 old great-great-grandfathers, with their spectacles on, gathered 
 round a great tree, to see a poor little inoffensive mouse shoved 
 into a hole, and buried alive there, and they foolishly believing 
 that the twigs would afterwards cure cramp, lameness, and 
 almost " all the ills that flesh is heir to !" One can almost 
 fancy that these simpletons chanted some such rhyme as the 
 following : 
 
 ON BURYING A SHREW-MOUSE ALIVE. 
 
 Poor little shrew, we confess it's very cruel, 
 
 To put thee in a hole so cold, and dark, and damp ; 
 
 It will save us, dear mouse, from taking so much gruel : 
 
 Our lameness it will cure, and take away the cramp. 
 
 109
 
 AUTUMN. 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Dear shrew-mouse ! save us from lumbago, 
 
 From hot fever, and the chilling ague ; 
 
 We look up to thee, buried in the tree, 
 
 To deliver us from all the diseases that there be. 
 
 GRAND CHORUS. 
 
 Twiddle-dum, twiddle-dee, we look up to thee, 
 Whom we bury alive in the gray old ash- tree. 
 
 In the early Autumn mornings, when we go out a shearing, 
 We shall very often wonder if thou art within hearing ; 
 And if we cannot see thee we shall still make our bow, 
 And consign to thy keeping each horse, sheep, and cow. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 The geese upon the common, the fowls around the house, 
 We leave to thy care, dear little shrew-mouse ; 
 Should gaffer or gammer be struck with cold or damp, ' 
 We look up to thee to take away the cramp. 
 
 GRAND CHORUS. 
 
 Tweedle-dum, tweedle-dee, we look up to thee, 
 W'hom we bury alive in the gray old ash-tree. 
 
 Now do you not think that some such like doggerel rhyme 
 would be quite in keeping with so silly a ceremony ? And yet 
 these very men, who trembled if a shrew-mouse only ran over 
 their legs, possessed the bravest hearts in the world, in the 
 midst of real dangers ; though they shook if only a raveu croaked, 
 yet they would march up to the point of a spear; and cared 
 no more for a drawn sword than they did fora straw. Such were 
 among the superstitions of a by-gone age, when there were but 
 few books ; when not one in a hundred could either read or 
 write ; for many of you will remember that several of the 
 great Barons who signed Magna Charta had to make a cross, 
 so, X, because they could not write their names ; and yet 
 these men were the owners of castles, which were surrounded 
 with parks and forests, and filled with herds of deer. 
 
 no
 
 THE PHEASANT 
 
 There are but few birds, that frequent our old English 
 woods, more beautiful than the 
 
 PHEASANT, 
 
 which, when full grown, is nearly a yard in length. It is 
 almost impossible to describe the rich colours of its plumage, for 
 we see there crimson, and gold, and green, and blue, and violet, 
 all crossed, and barred, and flecked with brown and black, so 
 beautifully blended together, that in some parts it is almost 
 impossible to distinguish one hue from another. There is a 
 look of majesty about this splendid bird as it is seen perched 
 
 upon some bough, mingling its rich plumage with the variegated 
 
 in
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 foliage of Autumn. The pheasant is not a native of our old 
 English forests, like the hawks and owls, that preyed and 
 hooted there in the time of the ancient Britons, and flapped 
 their wings above the heads of the long-bearded Druids, when 
 they went out in solemn procession to gather the mistletoe, 
 with their golden pruning-forks ; for it was not until a much 
 later day, and during the reign of Edward the First, that it 
 was brought into this country. It is on record, that when 
 Croesus, the King of Lydia, demanded of the wise Solon whether 
 he had ever beheld any thing equal to the splendour that sur- 
 rounded him, the grave philosopher answered, " The plumage 
 of the pheasant excels it all." The female makes her nest 
 of withered grass and dry leaves, in which she sometimes lays 
 from ten to twenty eggs. We have frequently discovered the 
 nest of the pheasant through the loud crowing the male makes 
 during the breeding season ; and, in many preserves we have 
 wandered through, we have seen the pheasants running about 
 as thick as poultry in a farmyard, and even clustering about 
 the gamekeeper to be fed. Pheasants, we believe, were made 
 to be eaten : we sit down with less remorse to devour a great 
 bird that weighs about three pounds, than we do a little thing, 
 that hops from spray to spray, and cheers us by its song, and 
 of which it would take, at least, a dozen to furnish a good 
 meal for a hungry man. These it is a shame to kill ; but a 
 fine, plump pheasant, a goose, a duck, a turkey, or a fowl, we 
 would sit down to without any more scruple of conscience than 
 we would to a sweet little sucking-pig ; consoling ourselves, 
 like the inimitable Charles Lamb, while eating it, by think- 
 ing that it could never grow up and become a large, dirty hog, 
 and go grunting and rooting about in every corner it could find. 
 Many well-meaning people think it a sin to lull or eat any 
 living thing we belong not to that number for we have the 
 authority of Holy Writ to prove that these creatures were sent 
 for the use of man. 
 112
 
 THE PARTRIDGE. 
 
 The Partridge is another plump, beautiful, little bird, that 
 helps itself to all within reach, and gets fat as fast as it can, by 
 devouring the corn in harvest-time, as if it had a kind of intui- 
 tive knowledge, that its fate would at last be to feed man, so 
 saw no reason why it should not partake of the best of the com, 
 as well as he did Wherever cultivation spreads, there the 
 
 , -^B-^-^?^^- -:--_., 
 
 -V> j--V-W_ 
 
 PARTRIDGE 
 
 is to be found; for, like the farmyard poultry, it seems to 
 know that its habitation is near the abode of man, for it is 
 neither adapted for prey nor flight, but by its gregarious 
 habits, and half-domesticated manner, seems marked out as 
 the food and property of man. Cruelty we abominate, 
 as much as we do that maudlin mercy, which marks down 
 a butcher as the chief of sinners, and considers it a crime to 
 take away the life of either beast, bird, or fish. Lovers, as 
 we are, of every thing beautiful in creation, we have none of 
 those milk and water sympathies, which cause us to feel 
 remorse after dining off a stuffed pheasant, or devouring a 
 plump, well-fed partridge at a meal. Neither do we consider 
 those laws just, which make these birds the property of the 
 
 H 113
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 rich alone not that we think any man has a right to trespass 
 upon private preserves, any more than he has to enter a gar- 
 den or an orchard, and help himself to the fruit ; but wherever 
 these birds are to be met with, on the open heath, or the wide 
 common, in fields through which ancient footways go winding 
 along the old free pathways which our forefathers have for 
 ages trod surely it would neither be robbing nor impover- 
 ishing any living individual, to capture the wild birds, or 
 animals, which might be found there, without doing more harm 
 than if we gathered the sloes and bullaces, nuts and crabs, from 
 the wild trees and hedges. 
 
 Every boy, who knows any thing of the country, must be 
 aware, that if a hare or rabbit is in a particular field or wood 
 on one day, it may by night be a mile or two off, feeding on 
 the cabbages in some poor man's garden. We can under- 
 stand a man laying claim to a pig, an ox, or a sheep, but what 
 right he has to a wild animal, or a bird, which is here to-day, 
 and there to-morrow, any more than the poorest peasant, who 
 may chance to meet with it on a common, we were never 
 yet able to understand ; and yet were the poor peasant to 
 capture either the one or the other on the wide, open common, 
 he must either pay a heavy fine, or go to prison. Sorry 
 should I be were any one of you to attempt to take a single 
 head of game ; for, as the law now stands, such an act would 
 bring you into trouble, and unjust as I consider the game law, 
 whilst it exists it must be obeyed. My object is to show you, 
 that beautiful as are our English laws, they are still capable 
 of amendment; and that, although compiled by wise and 
 learned men, like all other human institutions, they yet remain 
 imperfect. 
 
 But I was telling you before I entered into this long di- 
 gression, about the partridge, which is a very cunning bird, and 
 will frequently squat so close, that it will trust to your passing 
 its covert before it arises, although you are within a foot or two
 
 YOUNG PARTRIDGES. 
 
 of its hiding place. The female makes but a slovenly nest, in 
 which she lays from twelve to twenty eggs, which are of a 
 light brown colour; and so close does the old bird sit on the 
 eggs while she is hatching, that one gentleman records an 
 incident, to which he was an eye-witness, where he saw the 
 partridge taken, with her nest and eggs, and carried in a hat 
 to some distance, without attempting to make her escape ; and 
 that even when the nest was put in a safe place, she still con- 
 tinued to sit, and there brought up her young. There are few 
 prettier sights than a 
 
 COVEY OF PARTRIDGES, 
 
 nestling so closely together, that you might cover them all with 
 a handkerchief; and you never heard such a "whirring" and 
 rushing sound as they make, when they all rise together on 
 the wing. The favourite food of the young partridges is ants' 
 eggs ; and the old ones lead them to the ant-hills as soon as 
 they are able to peck. The plumage is subject to great change, 
 and will, at times, vary from brown to a deep cream-colour, 
 and this change is most visible about the breeding season. 
 The young birds can run as soon as they are hatched, and
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 have frequently been seen with part of the shell sticking to 
 them. Some sportsmen say that when the female is started 
 from her nest, she will hop away as if she were wounded, or 
 her wings broken, so that she may draw off the attention of 
 the enemy from her brood, by leading him to suppose how 
 easily she may be captured. The same cunning is also 
 attributed to the peewit. 
 
 Having told you a deal about fi'ogs and toads in my 
 description of Summer, so shall I now endeavour to make you 
 acquainted with another class of English reptiles, beginning 
 with the 
 
 LIZARDS, 
 
 or the land crocodiles, as they are called by boys in the country. 
 The Common Lizard is a beautiful creature, and may often 
 be found on heaths and sunny banks, turning its little head 
 round the instant it sees an insect, which it springs upon 
 in a moment ; and, when once it is between its sharp teeth, 
 it may bid good-bye to the sunshine, for it is soon swallowed 
 by the lizard. You would be astonished to see how quick
 
 THE LIZARD. 
 
 it can run along a smooth, level footpath; and you will 
 think it strange when I tell you, that the female lays her 
 eggs in a hole, which she makes in the sand, and, cover- 
 ing them up again, leaves them to be hatched by the heat 
 of the sun. But this, I must tell you, is only the case 
 with the sand-lizard ; for there are other species which bring 
 forth their young alive ; and, sometimes, you may see several 
 together, for the old one is frequently followed by five or 
 six of her young ones, which, like the peewits I before 
 spoke of, are able to run about almost as soon as they 
 are brought to life. Many of the lizards are very beautifully 
 marked, being green and brown, and spotted with yellow 
 and white, the white often rising* from the centre of larger 
 black spots, which run in a continuous line along the back 
 and sides : and, what is veiy singular, if the lizard chances 
 by any accident, to lose its tail, it grows again, although 
 not always to the length which it was at first Some of the 
 lizards are very tame, and may be made to eat and drink 
 out of the hand ; while others, again, will try to bite you with 
 their sharp teeth, and will speedily die if they are not liberated. 
 Although the lizard can run along at a good pace, its legs are 
 very short : the whole length of the lizard varies from five to 
 seven inches. The under part of a lizard much resembles the 
 chain armour which was worn by the barons of old : the throat 
 is covered with scales, like the gorget worn by knights in 
 battle ; the under part of the forefeet is marked with smaller 
 scales, such as we see on the armour of the arms ; while all 
 along, up to the hind feet, bears no bad resemblance to the 
 hauberk, or shirt of mail, which covered the body : and who 
 can tell but what some cunning armourer, of the olden time, 
 may have made many improvements on the linked mail, 
 through having narrowly observed the plated and scaly body of 
 the lizard? You may often see them basking on a sunny bank, 
 fast asleep ; but, on the least alarm, they are off in an instant ; 
 
 117
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 and, unless the spot where you discover them should chance to 
 be open, you may hunt in vain for hours, without being able to 
 find out their hiding-place. The blood of the lizard, like that 
 of other reptiles, is cold ; and it passes the whole of the winter 
 in an almost lifeless state, neither eating, moving, and, to all 
 appearance, not even breathing ; nor is it until the warm wea- 
 ther of spring approaches that the lizard is again seen in 
 action, seeming then as if restored to a new life : for, during 
 the long winter, it has never once moved from its hole beneath 
 the bank or under the tree, or disturbed the covering of dead 
 leaves beneath which it concealed itself. 
 
 Mr- Bell, in his "History of British Reptiles," relates an 
 interesting anecdote of a green lizard which he kept in a cage, 
 and fed with flies and other insects. Into this cage he one 
 day placed a large garden spider, which the lizard darted upon 
 in an instant, and seized it by the leg. The spider instantly 
 ran round and round the lizard's mouth, until it had woven a 
 thick web around both its jaws : after having, as it were, tied 
 up the lizard's mouth, the spider then gave it a severe bite 
 upon the lip ; as if to say, " There, take that for meddling 
 with my leg." The spider was removed, and the web taken 
 off; and, in a few days after, the lizard died, although, up to 
 the time that the spider bit it, it had appeared in a perfectly 
 healthy state. 
 
 Another class of reptiles, not much unlike the lizard in ap- 
 pearance, are Water-newts, or, as called by the country people, 
 Efts, and which, like the frogs, are mostly found in the water, 
 or running about amongst the shrubs and plants which grow 
 hi the banks, or beside moist and damp places. The newt lives 
 upon water-insects and worms ; and hundreds of young frogs 
 and toads are devoured by these reptiles in the tadpole state, 
 which I have before given you a description of; and, when 
 there is nothing else to be had, the largest species of newt 
 eat up the smaller ones, especially the warty newt, which 
 
 118
 
 NEWTS. 
 
 thinks no more of devouring a poor, little, smooth, or com- 
 mon newt, than you would of swallowing a ripe black-heart 
 cherry, stone and all, at a mouthful. It is curious to 
 watch the 
 
 NEWTS 
 
 swimming about in the water, steering wherever they please 
 by the aid of their tail, while their legs are turned backward, 
 just as a good swimmer turns his hands while throwing the 
 water behind him. Nor is this all : they can just as well walk 
 at the bottom of the water as either you or I can on dry land. 
 The newts lay their eggs on the leaf of some water-plant, 
 which they first fold together by the means of their hinder 
 feet ; and to this leaf the egg is as securely fastened as if a 
 joiner had stuck it on with some of his strongest glue. The 
 newt is much smaller than the lizard ; for the smooth kind, 
 which abound in almost every pond or ditch, are seldom found 
 to be much more than three inches in. length, and they nearly 
 attain ther full growth during the first year. The young newt 
 is able to swim as soon as it issues from the egg. 
 
 119
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 HOP-PICKING 
 
 is amongst the last of out-of- 
 door employments in Autumn, 
 while for picturesque beauty it 
 stands unequalled amid all the 
 in-gathering of the Harvest ; for 
 
 there are but few scenes more pleasant to look upon than a hop- 
 plantation, with its tall poles covered with broad, vine-shaped 
 leaves, and hung every way with the graceful bunches of pale, 
 gold-coloui-ed cones, from which arise such a delightful aroma, 
 that it is like sniffing the air in some green old forest on a 
 sunshiny day in Spring, where every tree is throwing out its 
 gummy odours. Yet how different to any forest is that spacious 
 hop-ground: there is no tangling underwood beneath the em. 
 bowering leaves, neither trailing bramble, nor armed gorse ; 
 but all below is clear as a garden walk, and all above green, 
 and golden, and beautiful ; where tendril leaf and bunch, curl, 
 and spread, and droop, in a thousand pleasing and fanciful 
 forms. Then to see the hop-pickers sitting or standing in 
 picturesque groups : some stripping the bine, others laden with 
 the poles, which are garlanded all over with leaves and bunches,
 
 HOP-PICKING. 
 
 some helping to fill the hop-pockets, others bearing baskets 
 the smell from the drying-kiln perfuming the whole neigh- 
 bourhood the laughter, the singing, and the merry jest, 
 have altogether such a rural, lively, and cheerful appear- 
 ance, that we question if the far-famed grape-gathering in 
 warmer climes, and under sunnier skies, has a more pleasing 
 and poetical appearance, than an English hop-picking picture 
 presents ! What a gipsy-like look there is about the scene, 
 as they collect together into little groups to prepare their 
 meals, while the pot is suspended from three stout poles, 
 where it simmers and sings, as if keeping time to the 
 crackling of the blazing wood-fire, and the clatter of the merry 
 voices, which are seldom silent ; then the eye agreeably 
 alights upon patches of white in the back ground of the scene, 
 which tell, that some poor fond mother, in the midst of all 
 her business, has found time to wash a few things for her 
 children. 
 
 But of all the merry groups we meet with on the highways, 
 none appear more light-hearted than the hop-pickers returning 
 home: every little knot would make a picture, and there aii 
 artist would find every variety of costume, saving the last 
 fashion. Men, women, and children pass along the road, 
 clothed in old, weather-stained garments, which look as if 
 they had stood the wear and tear of many a hop-gathering : 
 one carries a kettle, another an iron-pot, a third a bundle ; 
 and we have even seen the little crib for the baby borne 
 along on the head of one of the larger children ; for it would 
 not be left at home, nor would the mother have been com- 
 fortable without it, nor have sung so cheerfully, in spite of 
 all her poverty, while at work in the hop-grounds. And often 
 would she leave her work, and run to peep at that little 
 face in the cradle, upon which the shadows of the leaves 
 flickered as they waved to and fro in the autumnal sunshine. 
 Even from London do children accompany their parents in
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 these hop excursions; and you marvel however those little 
 legs can carry them there and back again, all the vray 
 from Maidstone, or Canterbury, to the borough of South- 
 wark. Yet they will reach there somehow, pots, pans, ket- 
 tles, bundles and all; for it is wonderful what a space of 
 ground they get over by night, although their pace scarcely 
 exceeds two miles an hour; and there is always some com- 
 fortable lodging-house which can accommodate them for one 
 night, should those who have children not be able to accom- 
 plish the whole distance in a long, long day. 
 
 If you wish to inhale the true odour of the hop, rub a 
 bunch of the cones through your hands. Oh, what a flavour 
 you will inhale ! and even your fingers will be stained with 
 the yellow hue of the bines. Hops are supposed to have been 
 used in brewing as early as the time of Henry VII., and 
 probably much earlier, although they were not brought into 
 general use until the reign of Henry VIII., or Elizabeth ; 
 not that I should imagine England was ever without the hop, 
 as it is still found wild in a variety of places. In former days 
 the young shoots of the wild hop used to be sold in the markets, 
 and boiled and eaten with meat, like other vegetables. 
 
 Ale, you must remember, was the favourite beverage in 
 those days, amongst all classes, who could either afford to brew 
 or purchase it, for neither tea, coffee, nor chocolate were then 
 known in England. Even the ladies at Court looked as 
 regularly for their broiled beef-steak and flagon of ale at 
 breakfast, as we do now for our bread-and-butter, or tea and 
 coffee : and Tusser, an old verse-maker, recommends the 
 thrifty housewife to boil her meat overnight, that her servants 
 might have the broth next morning to breakfast. They 
 used to kill the cattle in autumn, in those days, and salt them 
 for the winter's provision. They did this in order to save 
 the food which the cattle would have required to keep them 
 throughout the dead season of the year. Salt fish was also laid
 
 END OF AUTUMN. 
 
 up in pea-straw for winter's consumption; and, when it was 
 very hard or dry, they used to beat it with a mallet, or a 
 rolling-pin, before the fish was broiled ; and I have no doubt 
 but that many of you have heard the old saying of " beaten 
 like a stockfish." 
 
 Our next step will conduct us into the land of Winter, 
 for the naked trees, and the old nests, which we see amid the 
 branches, the absence of the flowers, and the shortness of the 
 days, all warn us that the season of storm, and sleet, and frost, 
 and snow is at hand. We hear the busy flail in the barn, 
 as the thrasher pursues Ins heavy task, from morning to night, 
 suiTounded by the whole family of fowls, who are busy rum- 
 maging amongst the straw, and sometimes approach so near 
 the thrasher's flail, that we marvel they are not knocked on 
 the head. In the farmyard we see the cattle standing knee- 
 deep in straw, as if wondering where all the sweet, green grass, 
 and summer flowers, had gone ; and seeming to tell each other 
 by their expressive looks, that they do not like the choking, 
 chopped-straw, and dry hay, at all, and care not how soon they 
 are once more hoof-deep in the rich clover pastures. We 
 have now rainy days, and foggy nights, that come so thick, 
 and so suddenly over the landscape, we can scarcely see our 
 hand before us : fogs that spread over the fields like a great 
 sea, and in which travellers lose their way, and farmers, who 
 have taken a glass too much after dinner, turn down the 
 wrong lane, and find themselves, at last, before some house, 
 a mile or two away from their own homes ; when vessels run 
 foul of one another in the rivers, and lamps in the streets 
 only bewilder the passengers ; and old men cough dread- 
 fully, as they pass each other, while old women, with their 
 heads down, bob their bonnets into one's face, and then say, 
 " Lor, bless me !'' and ragged boys buy a penny torch, dipped 
 well in tar and turpentine, and, for a penny, suffocate any 
 foot-passenger, who is good-natured enough to follow them. 
 
 123
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 But the greatest wonder of Autumn, is the number of birds 
 that both leave, and return, to our country : -we miss many a 
 sweet songster, that used to warble in our summer walks, and, 
 in place of these, we behold many a strange bird, perched upon 
 the naked boughs : the snipe, and the fieldfare, and the wood- 
 cock ; and in the marshes, and beside the rivers, we meet with 
 every variety of waterfowl, which have come many a weary 
 mile to winter with us, from the northern climates, as our 
 summer birds do from the south in spring, to build and rear 
 their young in our green woods, and pleasant hedgerows. 
 Such cattle as remain in the fields huddle together for warmth, 
 turning their backs to the wind and rain, and hanging their 
 heads down as if they did not at all like such a change ; but 
 wishing that it were either colder or warmer, so that they 
 might either be comfortably housed in their stalls, or be 
 again nibbling at the summer-grass any thing rather than 
 starving upon this neutral ground of the year. The holly 
 and ivy appear to have a greener look now, and as they at- 
 tract our attention in the woods and hedgerows, we begin 
 to think that meny Christmas is drawing near, with all its 
 holidays, sports, and pastimes, and our next book will find us 
 in the midst of them all.
 
 
 
 
 

 
 SHAKSPERE'S DESCRIPTION oy WINTER ENGLISH ROADS AND ENGLISH 
 TRAVELLERS IN THE OLDEN TIME WINTER SCENERY: WIND; SEA-SIDE; 
 LONELY PLACES STREET CRIES HEARD IN A WINTRY MORNING COMFORTS 
 OF HOME SNOW SCENE DESCRIBED: BOYS MAKING A SNOW MAN; CASTLES 
 AND FORTIFICATIONS; A WOODEN HORSE; BULLWELL FOREST, AND POOR TRA- 
 VELLERS IN A SNOWSTORM; SNOW DRIFTS AND ROAD-SIDE SCENERY: SILENCE 
 OP THE COUNTRY IN WINTER; SHEEP AND SHEPHERDS IN THE MOUNTAIN- 
 PASSES DURING A SNOW-STORM; VILLAGE CARRIER GOIKO TO MARKET; 
 A CROSS COUNTRY ROAD AND CROSS PASSENGERS; LONELY PLACES PASSED BY 
 THE OLD CARRIER; ETTY AND HER BROTHER, A TRUE TALE HABITS or 
 BIRDS IN WINTER: TITMOUSE; THRUSH; BLACKBIRD; BUSTARD; AND GOLDEN 
 CRESTED WREN ; THE ROBIN. A WINTER FAVOURITE; A CHIRP ABOUT SPAR- 
 ROWS: WILD GEESE; DESCRIPTION OF THE WILD SWAN ; How WILD DUCKS 
 ARE CAUGHT, AND WHAT A DECOY DUCK is CATTLE IN WINTER; A FREEZING 
 SHOWER; BEAUTY OF FROSTWORK UPON GLASS ; PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION 
 DESCRIPTION OF A WINTER-FLOOD, AND HOW WE SAILED our AMONGST THE 
 VILLAGES; OUR ADVENTURE WITH AN OLD MAN WHOSE COTTAGE WAS FLOODED 
 A KEEN BLACK FROST: ITS EFFECTS ON TRADE; RIVER FROZEN OVER; 
 SKATING AND SLIDING; PLAYING AT BALL ON THE ICE ; GRAND EFFECT PRO- 
 DUCED BY THE ICE BREAKING UP IN THE RlVER ; GREAT BLOCKS OF IcE 
 
 CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS ; PREPARATION FOR CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS: HOLLY 
 AHD IVY; CHRISTMAS MORNING; VILLAGE WAITS; CHRISTMAS FEASTS AND 
 CHARITIES; CHRISTMAS DINNER; SNAPDRAGON; TURN-TRENCHER ; GUESSING
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 WAYSIDE WANDERERS IN WINTER : RUNAWAY APPRENTICE; THE OLD WO- 
 MAN AND HER SON; THE PEDLER'S TALE ABOUT A CALL-PIPE; SHAM SAILORS; 
 A POOR OLD MAN HABITS OP THE DORMOUSE ; WHAT THE LONG-TAILED 
 FIELD MOUSE SAID WHEN HIS LARDER WAS ROBBED BATS DESCRIBED : LONG- 
 EARED BAT; FLITTER-MOUSE BAT, &c. A MERRY TALE ABOUT DICKY VARNEY'S 
 RED AND WHITE Cow FOOTBALL PLAYING DESCRIPTION OF A SOLEMN-LOOKING 
 OLD-FASHIONED HOUSE RAILROADS AT NIGHT CRUELTY OF FOX-HUNTING : 
 AN APOLOGY FOR FOXES ; A POINT OF CONSCIENCE ABOUT HUNGER AND TURNIPS 
 THE RIVER ISLAND : LONG-LEGGED PLOVER; THE OLD FISHERMAN, A POEM; 
 BALD COOTS RAVENS AND OMENS THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF SIMPLE 
 SAMMY WATER-SPIDER ; SOCIAL CATERPILLAR WOODMAN IN WINTER GREAT 
 BUSTARD EXTINCT ANIMALS BILLY-GO-EASY IN THE BEAR'S DEN THE 
 STARRY HEAVENS; THE WONDERS OF GOD'S WORKS BIRD CATCHIHG IN WIN- 
 TER RUFFS AND REEVES BEAUTY OF MOONLIGHT WHAT AN OBSERVANT BOY 
 SEES A DESCRIPTION OF WINTER, WRITTEN ABOVE THREE HUNDRED YEARS 
 AGO SIGNS OF SPRING END OF WINTER.
 
 When icicles hang by the wall, 
 
 And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, 
 And Tom bears logs into the hall, 
 
 And milk comes froien home in pail ; 
 When blood is nipped, and ways be foul. 
 
 Then nightly sings the starinj; owl, 
 
 To-whoo; to-whoo." SII.VKSPERE. 
 
 SUCH is the description of Winter, 
 which Shakspere has left us ; and 
 he further tells us how the par- 
 son's sermon could not be heard 
 in the church for coughing; how 
 red the cold made the ends of 
 the old women's noses ; and that 
 while the roasted crabs were hiss- 
 ing in the big bowl, the poor 
 birds sat brooding in the snow. 
 , What the " foul ways" were, 
 /. in Shakspere 's time, you may
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 readily guess, when I tell you, that there were few highroads 
 such as we now see ; that there were scarcely any stage- 
 wagons, and coaches were almost unknown; that merchants 
 travelled from fair to fair, and from town to town, with their 
 goods tied in great packages, and over the backs of their 
 horses ; and that the packhorse still hangs out, as an alehouse- 
 sign, in many an old-fashioned country-town, in the present day. 
 In the deep, miry roads, on a dark winter's night, might the 
 jingling of their horses' bells be heard, as the sound was borne 
 along upon the wind, while they threaded their way through 
 the darkness, between the hedges, along such narrow roads as 
 Hagbush Lane, which still stretches behind Islington, and 
 out at the foot of Highgate Hill, and which, though not more 
 than nine or ten feet wide, was, a few centuries ago, the great 
 North-road that led into London. Then, and even up to within 
 the last half century, bad roads, and snow, and rain, and wind, 
 and darkness, were not the only things which those hardy 
 wayfarers had to contend with in winter; for footpads, and 
 daring highwaymen, mounted on fleet horses, lay hi wait be- 
 hind the dark hedges, and near the old crosses, and guide- 
 posts, which stood at the corners of those ancient roads ; and 
 if one of the travellers' horses chanced to stick fast in these miry 
 ways, or the traveller was alone, or benighted, or chanced to lose 
 his way, out rushed one or more of the robbers, and out came 
 his pistol, as he cut short all ceremony by exclaiming, " De- 
 liver your money, or die." For, in those days, villages lay wide 
 and far apart, and towns were dimly lighted with little oil- 
 lamps, one of which stood here and there at the corners of 
 the streets ; and, on a windy and tempestuous night, these 
 were blown out, and all the roads that lay edging upon 
 the towns, were left in unguarded silence and darkness; for 
 there were no mounted policemen to watch the highway, in 
 those days, and to protect travellers. Such was the England 
 we now live in, long after the time that Shakspere had writ-
 
 DESCRIPTION OF WINTER. 
 
 ten the verse, which we have prefixed to the heading of our 
 description of Winter. 
 
 Now, instead of the faded foliage of Autumn, the hedges 
 are shorn even of their withered leaves, looking bare and 
 naked, saving where the scarlet clusters of hips and haws still 
 hang, and the dark-leaved holly, and straggling ivy, occasionally 
 relieve the nakedness with their green. We hear the wind 
 howling about the house at night, like a hungry wolf, trying 
 the window-shutters, and doors to get in ; and, as if determined 
 not ot be disappointed of its prey, it enters the chimney, 
 where it moans, and growls, and roars, as if it had stuck fast, 
 and could neither get up nor down, into the warm, comfortable 
 room, in which it is now really a pleasure to be seated. Then 
 we think of the darkness which stretches over the sea ; of the 
 ships which are driven before the mighty wind ; of shoals, and 
 sands, and rocks, and wrecks ; and great waves, that come 
 moaning, and beating upon the beach, like hungry monsters 
 seeking something to devour. We call up desolate moors, and 
 lonely roads, and solitary toll-gates, standing at the corners of 
 woods and forests ; and bleak, treeless commons ; places which 
 bear an ill name : where travellers have been waylaid and 
 robbed, where gibbet-posts stand ; and all night long the irons, 
 in which the murderer is hung, swing, and creak, and rattle 
 again ! and then it is, that we really feel there is no place like 
 home. We think of the cold river side, and the frozen reeds 
 and rushes, white over with hoar-frost; the icy ropes sailors 
 are compelled to handle ; the gardener chilled as he cuts 
 greens, and digs up turnips half-buried in the snow; of the 
 poor creatures who call cold "water-cresses" in the streets; of 
 the little sweep, whose voice we hear in the keen frosty morn- 
 ing, long before it is light; and we feel thankful that we have 
 got so comfortable a bed to lie in, and so warm a roof above our 
 heads. Even the cry of " milk" tells us how early the poor wo- 
 man must have risen ; and we think of the many streets she has 
 
 JL 2 3
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 had to traverse, all in the biting frost, or snow, or through the 
 thaw, before our breakfast-table can be supplied with this neces- 
 sary beverage. Oh, if a boy were only to sit down and think 
 seriously of these things, he would soon be enabled to estimate 
 aright, all the blessings and comforts of home ; would clearly 
 see, how much we are indebted even to the very poor; and that, 
 but for their labour, and attendance, we should be left without 
 many things, which we now enjoy ; that a house, filled with 
 gold, would only be an abode of misery, if our fellow-men re- 
 fused to administer to our wants; and that the. largest estate, 
 the wealthiest landowner ever possessed, would be worth but 
 little more than a vast and barren desert, if he was left without 
 labourers to cultivate it. Whatever, then, may be your station 
 in life, always treat the industrious poor with respect and 
 kindness ; and you will find them ever grateful, and ready to 
 serve you. For my part, I would sooner be attended upon, by 
 the meanest beggar that ever wore rags, if he served me with 
 feelings of affection, than a cold, selfish servant, were he kept, 
 and clothed, and paid by another, and but waited on me, for 
 what he got, without a feeling of attachment: remember that 
 " kindness begets affection." 
 
 What a great change does a fall of snow produce on the 
 face of the landscape ! Overnight, we see the fields green, the 
 trees brown and naked, the moss upon the thatched roofs of 
 the cottages, and the winding highway as clean and hard, as if 
 it had been swept ; the fallow-lands, too, were brown, and there 
 was something of a Spring-look in the turnip fields, where the 
 sheep were feeding ; when, lo, next morning the whole scene 
 has undergone a change ! Some mighty hand has been at work 
 during the night, and every object is now covered white over 
 with snow, which has fallen flake by flake, and hour by hour, 
 from dark to daylight, until every way around, the landscape 
 is covered, nearly knee-deep, with the feathery flakes. A 
 fine, bright morning perchance follows, and the eye fairly
 
 1 M_;I. .i.-i and I'nni.il 11
 
 A WINTER MOUSING. 
 
 aches, while looking upon the glittering prospect which lies 
 around. Hill, and wood, and field, and footpath, the long high- 
 way, and the hroad, open common, are mantled over with snow, 
 upon which the wagon moves along with scarce a sound, and the 
 horse is beside you before you are aware of it ; for every noise is 
 deadened by the deep fall of snow. That is not a morning to 
 sit moping over the fire, when so much amusement is to be 
 found out of doors when there are fortifications to erect, and 
 houses to build, and snow-men to make, and a snow-ball to 
 roll along, until it is as high as our own heads ; and, above all, 
 a good-natured snow-balling match to take place between two 
 parties of boys, on the open common, where we are sure 
 neither to injure ourselves, nor do any one harm. That is a 
 morning to tie a thick comforter round the neck, lace the 
 boots tightly, and put on the stoutest pair of worsted gloves* 
 and sally out in the keen, cold, bracing air, knee-deep among 
 the clean, white, untrodden snow ; for the sky is blue over- 
 head, and the sun shines bright, and he only, who cares not 
 to come home with a pair of rosy cheeks, will sit and keep 
 company with the cat by the fireside. 
 
 And now we will fancy ourselves out in the cold, healthy air, 
 making a snow man. But first we must hold a brief consulta- 
 tion as to whether he shall have legs or not. A dozen pairs of 
 hands are at work in a moment, for it is decided that he shall 
 have a solid foundation to stand upon, and the best way will be 
 to commence rolling a ball from the opposite side of the field, to 
 the spot where we intend him to stand ; and if we can but make 
 it long, like a large thick garden-roller, his body will be formed 
 at once, and to do this we must fasten a dozen or two of snow- 
 balls together, until they are a yard in length or more, and 
 when this is done, we have only to commence rolling away. 
 Over and over, heavier and heavier it becomes, until, at last, 
 from its very weight, it licks up the snow, clean down to the 
 very grass, leaving as clear a track behind as if the space had
 
 WINTER. 
 
 been swept by a broom. Onward we go, it requires all our 
 united strength to move it, for it is now massy, and round, and 
 heavy, as the lower portion of a large column. Then comes 
 the great Herculean task, how shall we rear it on end ? All 
 hands are at work in an instant, we have succeeded in getting a 
 rail under it we lift, we pull, we purchase we get it half-way 
 up, and to our great disappointment it comes in two. Never 
 mind, there is half of it securely fixed, our 
 
 SNOW MAN 
 / r ~^**-^ , is already three feet 
 
 *^ti,~ \ ^k- Af ter gre^ 
 "sri*,. difficulty, we add the 
 
 other portion to it, and now we begin to form his shoulders, 
 his neck, his head, his arms ; we have got a short pipe to 
 stick in his mouth ; and we have got two pieces of coal for 
 his eyes. And now we have built him up, we will stand at 
 
 6
 
 THE SNOW MAN. 
 
 a distance and pelt him with snow-balls, and see who can 
 first hit the pipe in his mouth, or knock off one of his arms : 
 and famous exercise shall we find it, for not one out of our 
 whole number will feel cold. Then if we succeed in knock- 
 ing his head off, we will, at night, bring the largest turnip 
 we can purchase, hollow it out in the middle, and shape 
 through the rind, the eyes, nose, and mouth, and in this 
 we will put a lighted candle, and placing it on the neck 
 of >ur snow-man, leave it in the centre of the field, with 
 its fiery eyes glaring, and ilaming mouth open, to startle 
 some village dame, as she returns to her cottage after dark ; 
 and pausing, half afraid, she will exclaim, " Laws-a mercy ! 
 what ever is it?" until approaching nearer, she will say, 
 " Odd bon ! those boys, they have been making a snow- man 
 again, to frighten me." Oh, what grand castles have we 
 erected ere now, out of the snow ! We used to go to the 
 lath-renders, and get him to supply us with thin pieces of 
 deal, which we reared up, and placed cross-wise, and piled 
 the snow upon, making windows, and doors, and massy walls, 
 and tall turrets, worked into battlements, and a huge snow- 
 tower, that stood high and white over all ; and around it we 
 scooped away the snow for the moat, and with the laths we 
 built a bridge across ; we placed snow- wardens on the battle- 
 ments ; we stationed snow-sentinels beside the bridge ; and 
 when we had completed it, we retreated to a measured dis- 
 tance, and then commenced storming the castle with snow- 
 balls, when we struck down tower, and turret, and keep, and 
 battlement, and laid the wardens and sentinels prostrate, 
 nor ceased until we left our castle a heap of snowy ruins. 
 
 Sometimes when the ponds and streams were frozen over, 
 and covered with snow, we would cross them on a bough, like 
 the man we here give in the engraving from Bewick, so that 
 if we chanced to stumble upon a spot which the snow had 
 covered, and where the ice would not bear us, we were pretty 
 
 7
 
 WINTER. 
 
 sure of not sinking in deeper than the legs, for the strong bough 
 which we bestrode in the middle, would be certain to rest 
 upon the ice, both before and behind us, and mounted on such 
 
 A WOODEN HORSE 
 
 as this, there was but little fear of our ever being drowned. 
 Now and then we got into a hole, but what of that! we had 
 only to run home, and get dry again as soon as possible ; there 
 was but little harm done, and depend upon it our friends were 
 much better pleased than if we had got ducked up to the chin. 
 But I will now paint you another picture of Winter, such 
 as I once saw while crossing Bulwell Forest. It was still early 
 in the morning, and the snow, which had come down all night 
 long, had not yet ceased to fall ; but still came downward, in 
 many a whirling eddy, and here and there it had gathered in 
 many a deep drift, forming long, ridgy, embankments of 
 snow, which every hour was piled higher, by the cutting breath 
 of the bleak north wind. Over the long, white, weaiy forest 
 there was neither the dint of hoof, nor the print of wheel, nor 
 the mark of a human footstep, saving my own ; nor could I see 
 halfway across the solitude, for between the eye and the edge 
 of the low, leaden-coloured sky seemed drawn an ever-waving 
 curtain of snow. As the wind howled through the bare oaks, and
 
 BULWELL FOREST. 
 
 the naked hawthorns, some mass of snow was dislodged, and 
 either fell with a dead sound upon the earth, or was driven away 
 to mingle with the large white flakes which still continued to 
 fall. The fieldfares, for all their thick covering of feathers, were 
 cold, and sat huddled together, among the leafless branches. 
 Even the hardy donkey, as if in very despair, had thrust him- 
 self as far as he could among the entangling brambles, and ever 
 and anon he gave his fallen ears a sharp jerk, to shake off the 
 snow, as he cast a forlorn look upon the ground. At every 
 bound the poor hare went head over ears, and in spite of my 
 shrill whistle was compelled, occasionally, to halt, for every 
 leap but left it at the foot of another barrier of snow. After 
 walking some distance, I came to where a gate stood partly 
 open, and saw the marks of footsteps from the thatched 
 
 hovel within the field, 
 among which were the 
 imprints of children's 
 feet, and, as I continued 
 my course, I beheld the 
 
 GROUP OP POOR TRAVELLERS,
 
 WINTER. 
 
 \vlio had passed that cold winter night, in the doorless outhouse 
 in the fields : it consisted of a man, and woman, and four chil- 
 dren, who, with heads bent down, were threading their uncer- 
 tain way over the forest, while the wind and snow beat full and 
 cold, in their pale, thin, and hunger-bitten faces. The poor 
 man told me a long tale of his miseries, of how he had hoped 
 to reach Nottingham overnight, and how the darkness overtook 
 him, and he lost his way amid the snow, and after wandering 
 about for a full hour without discovering any house, they at 
 length found their way to the hovel within the field, and thanked 
 God for guiding them to such a place of shelter. " True," 
 he said, " the children had cried at first, but, in spite of 
 hunger, they soon fell asleep ; and, with the few armfuls of 
 hay he had gathered from a neighbouring rick, he had covered 
 them well up ; nor did they again awaken until the cold, chill, 
 and cheerless daylight dawned. Even money," he said, "would 
 have been useless on such a night, and in such a spot, where 
 they had lost their way." I conducted them to a public house 
 in the nearest village ; and once before the great, comfortable 
 kitchen-fire, the thoughts of their sufferings soon seemed to 
 melt away, in the enjoyment of a good hot breakfast. A 
 glass or two of ale won the favour of the village carrier, whom 
 I knew, and without a farthing charge for their fare, he 
 good-naturedly put them all into his large tilted cart, and 
 conveyed them to Nottingham. 
 
 I could tell you many a story of travellers who have lost 
 their way in snow-storms, who have tumbled into pits and 
 hollow places, where the snow had drifted, and lay many 
 feet deep, and which they had mistaken for a continuation of 
 the road they were traversing, and where they have perished, 
 and their bodies were never found until the snow had melted 
 away ; of flocks of sheep that have been buried beneath the 
 snow ; of shepherds who have perished when they went out 
 in search of their flocks ; for many such accidents as these 
 
 10
 
 WINTER TRAVELLERS. 
 
 occur in the deep ravines which open in the mountainous dis- 
 tricts of Scotland ; and even in our own country many have lost 
 their way hi wide wastes, and dreary moorlands, where no 
 path was visible, and the night had overtaken them amid those 
 untrodden solitudes of snow. Few, he it remembered, would 
 perish, if they could but continue to proceed along their way, 
 unless they chanced to stumble into some hidden hollow ; but 
 the cold produces a strange overpowering feeling of drowsi- 
 ness, which it is very difficult to overcome, and many, I doubt 
 not, who have yielded to this feeling, have laid down to sleep, 
 and never awoke again, whose lives might have been saved, 
 if they could but have mustered resolution enough to have 
 walked along, till they reached some human habitation. Many 
 a stage-coach has ere now stuck fast in the snow, and the pas- 
 sengers have been compelled to find their way back again, 
 as well as they could, to the inn from which they last started ; 
 and letters, which the mail carried, had to be forwarded by 
 men on foot, or horseback, over cross-country roads, where 
 the snow did not lay so deep ; and the passengers have been 
 obliged to eat whatever the road-side house produced, in which 
 they were forced to shelter, until a path was cut through the 
 drifts, and they could conclude their journey ; for some have 
 slept hi the hayloft, and others on the benches, or in chairs by 
 the fire, thankful that they had a roof at all over their heads, 
 instead of wintering it out all night in the open air. Far off 
 in the fields you see some little cottage, or lonely farmhouse, 
 standing amid the snow, looking from the distance as if half 
 buried amid the white flakes ; and you picture to yourself the 
 plunging and struggling Gaffer or Gammer must have, ere they 
 cat get across those deep, white, untrodden fields, to procure 
 the necessary articles they may require from the neighbouring 
 village. Nor is it less amusing to watch the sheep in some 
 turnip field, thickly covered with snow, how they will persevere 
 and push themselves through with their ragged fleeces, finding
 
 WINTER. 
 
 their way to a turnip here, and a top there, and just making 
 a hole in the drift, which is piled over it, large enough for 
 their heads while they feed, not looking unlike a little arch, 
 which a boy might have scooped out with his hand. 
 
 There is something very solemn in the appearance of a 
 country covered with snow on a cloudy day, especially if you 
 look over some point of it that is uninhabited ; for there are 
 none of those sounds and rural objects, heard or seen, which 
 float and move about the same spot in summer. What birds 
 there are, are silent, and hidden somewhere in the hedges; 
 the cattle, which gave such a charm to the scenery, are driven 
 from the fields. You miss the figures that dotted the land- 
 scape as they followed their out-of-door employments ; neither 
 a whistle nor a shout go ringing through the wood. The 
 voices of children are no'longer heard in the shelter of lanes, 
 and the report of a gun, echoing afar off, only seems to make 
 the silence more solitary, after the sound has died away. Nor 
 is it less interesting to watch the snow falling upon the face 
 of a river ; to see flake after flake settle down, float along for 
 a brief moment, and then dissolve for ever ! or to watch the 
 large fleeces, ere they descend in seeming lines, cross one 
 another ; or sometimes watch two flakes come in contact, cling 
 together, and then fall softly upon the ground : or to observe 
 some countryman, in his heavy, nailed boots, often pause to 
 shake off the hard masses of snow, which have clung to his 
 feet, and to see the lumps lying on the highway, bearing 
 the print of every nail of the soles to which they have ad- 
 hered ; while some old man, with his shoulders up, bent 
 nearly double with the cold, gives his ears a sharp pat oc- 
 casionally to beat off the snow, and then laying hold of his 
 poor red nose with his hands to keep it warm, wonders to 
 himself what pleasure boys can find in being out in such 
 weather. 
 
 Hogg, in his " Shepherd's Calendar," makes mention of a 
 12
 
 SNOW-DRIFTS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 snow-storm, which drifted to such a depth in the mountain- 
 passes, as almost to reach to the tops of the trees ; that the 
 snow fell for thirteen days and nights without once ceasing, and 
 hundreds of sheep sunk into a sleepy and torpid state, from 
 which not one of them ever awoke again alive ; and that so 
 many died through the cold, that they made walls of the dead 
 bodies of the sheep, which they piled one upon the other, to 
 screen those that remained alive from the cold : that on one 
 farm alone, out of nine hundred sheep only one was left alive ; 
 while whole flocks were at times buried beneath the snow, and 
 nobody could tell where they had been lost, until the snow 
 melted away, and they were found dead, which they often were, 
 with their heads all turned one way. Numbers, he says, were 
 swept away by the floods which followed ; and in one place, 
 where the tide threw out what was carried down by the river, 
 there were discovered nearly two thousand sheep, and a hun- 
 dred and eighty hares, all of which had been destroyed by the 
 snow-storm. At one spot he came to, only the heads of a few 
 sheep appeared, here and there, through the snow ; the rest 
 were covered deep over-head, in the very place where they were 
 lying when the storm came on. They went about, he tells us, 
 boring through the snow with their long poles, and scarcely 
 finding a single sheep in a quarter of an hour, until at length 
 a shepherd dog seemed clearly to understand what they were 
 searching for; and running about upon the snow, he began 
 scratching and looking at the shepherds, as if to draw their 
 attention ; and in every spot which he thus pointed out, they 
 found a sheep beneath ; and by this means two hundred were 
 saved, which probably would never have been discovered, but 
 for the shepherd dog. 
 
 But I should fill pages were I to tell you all I have seen 
 and read about snow-storms, and sheep, and shepherds, and 
 the sagacity of dogs ; from those which are kept by the monks 
 of Great St. Bernard, and that rescue travellers from the 
 
 13
 
 WINTER. 
 
 snow in the mountains, to such as have followed their poor 
 masters, and shared their hard fare, and remained faithful to 
 the end, through all their misfortunes. As for sheep, I have 
 nothing more to tell you about them, for we read in the Bible 
 that flocks of sheep were kept by the early Patriarchs, and 
 many a beautiful allusion is made to them in Scripture. 
 Sheep originally are supposed to have descended from an 
 animal called the Musmon, whose skin, beside being co- 
 vered with long hair, bears also a short coat of wool, which is 
 hidden under the longer covering, and that by domestication the 
 short wool has been brought uppermost ; and that in former 
 days they were as regularly milked as the cows are now ; and 
 -that some of those which run wild upon the Welsh mountains, 
 will leap from crag to crag with a fearlessness that is scarcely 
 surpassed by the strong and active goat. 
 
 Market-day, after a heavy fall of snow, is full of adventures. 
 The carrier, with his cart and market-passengers, sets out from 
 some village, which is situate on the hills. " The roads are 
 rather heavy," says he, "but with a little patience we shall 
 manage." He carries his usual load of packages, with all 
 kinds of addresses, hampers containing butter and eggs, and 
 choice poultry, pork sausages, and every variety of country 
 produce ; all of which he promises to deliver as faithfully as if the 
 suppliers accompanied him themselves. But it is so cold, 
 and as the snow is out, and they have nothing particular to go 
 to town for, they therefore send a list of orders of what they 
 want, sometimes verbally, sometimes written out, and then 
 leave the rest to chance, and the old carrier. Two or three 
 village-wives, have urgent business to transact at the distant 
 market-town, and they must go, whether or no. Besides, the 
 old carrier has traversed the same roads for forty years, and 
 he ought to know whether they are passable or not, if he 
 doesn't know, who does ? And so, after much preparation, and 
 a very early breakfast, they cover themselves well up in old
 
 THE VILLAGE CAKRIEK. 
 
 coats and cloaks, and clamber into the tilted cart. " Deary 
 me, how unfortunate we are !" both the old and young passen- 
 gers exclaim ; for, before they have travelled over two or three 
 miles of ground, it begins to snow again ; and they begin to 
 think of the comfortable cottage fire they left, and the ketr 
 tie singing cheerily on the hob, and to wish that they 
 were safe home again. " There won't be much," answers 
 the carrier, as he jumps out, and walks beside his horses, 
 while the poor things find the snow deeper, and the load 
 heavier, every few yards they proceed. Onward they go, 
 down the road, which slopes gradually from the foot of 
 the hills, until they reach the edge of the long, level plain, 
 or valley, over which there is a slight descent for miles. 
 " Bless me ! " says one of the old women, if we go on at this 
 snail's pace, we shall never get there to-day." " Gee-whoop," 
 cries the carrier, using his long whip, the poor horses strain 
 every nerve, and steam again with perspiration, and pull and 
 drag, until they once more stick fast in the snow, which now 
 nearly reaches up to the axle of the wheel. The carrier pats 
 them, and feels sorry that he has used the lash ; he speaks 
 kindly to them, and the horses prick up their ears as if to 
 say, "Well, well, we forgive you, for we know the old women 
 grumble so, that it would ruffle the temper of a saint to hear 
 them. But don't lose your good-nature, and be angry with 
 us, we will do all we can." They start once more, and 
 pull with all their might and main, until crack goes some- 
 thing behind. "Stop, stop," holla two or three voices from 
 the inside ; but there is no occasion to call stop, for the 
 horses are again fast in the snow. "My hamper's fallen 
 out," shouts some old wife, " and there's all my sweet but- 
 ter tumbling into the snow ! " " And all my live fowls 
 have escaped!" exclaims another. "And my basket of pork- 
 sausages has fallen off!" cries a third: "and I declare if 
 there is n't that brute of a dog eating up my sweet pork-
 
 WINTER. 
 
 pies and choice sparerib ! " 
 And out they jump, one 
 after the other, to reco- 
 ver their property. This 
 done, they all fall to at 
 once, and abuse the old 
 man, as if he could help his 
 
 CART STICKING FAST IN THE SNOW. 
 
 He declares, and truly, that he was not aware it had fallen 
 to such a depth. " I don't believe you," exclaims one old 
 woman, her temper heating, while she stands shivering in 
 the cold. " You agreed to take us to Market- Raisen, and 
 if you don't, 111 summons you before his worship, that I will, 
 next justice-day." "He knew he could never get so far,''
 
 GOING TO MAKKET. 
 
 shrieks out the second, in a shrill voice, which rings through 
 the poor fellow's ears worse than the wind. " He only brought 
 us to get his fare ; but if ever I pay him a farthing, my name's 
 not Nanny Newsome." " Whatever I 'm to do for my week's 
 tea, I do n't know !" says the third. " I can never drink that nasty 
 stuff, which Tommy Brown sells." "And my lad must have 
 his boots," begins the first again. "And my lass have 
 some cough-drops for her cold," chimes in the second. " And 
 our William some oils for his rheumatics," is the third chorus. 
 " I '11 never ride with you again," says number one. " Nor I 
 either," adds number two. " And I '11 get everybody I know 
 to send their things by the new carrier, that I will," 
 shrieks the shrill-voiced old woman. And the poor carrier, 
 to preserve the drums of his ears from being split by their 
 din and clamour, is compelled to continue cracking his whip, 
 and ciying, "Gee-whoop!" to drown the sound of their voices. 
 But all their abuse moves them not a foot further ; and the 
 carrier, well-knowing that his tongue is no equal match for 
 three old women and two young ones, persuades them to get 
 in again; promising them, that if he can once reach farmer 
 Fillingham's, he will lend him a couple of horses, and then he 
 knows he can drag through, heavy as it is. After many a halt, 
 and many a struggle, he reaches the farmhouse ; and the warm- 
 hearted farmer, who knows every passenger as well as he does 
 his own horses, comes out, accompanied by his hale and 
 hearty wife, and they invite all the women in to warm 
 themselves, and the honest dame heats them a little elder- wine 
 of her own making ; and as the old women sit and sip it, while 
 the horses are getting ready, they regain their even tempers, and 
 believe that they were a little bit too hasty after all. Some- 
 thing hot is also given to the honest carrier, and with the 
 addition of the two strong horses he has borrowed, and the 
 help of the farmer's man, who is to accompany him all the 
 way, why they manage better than ever, and the old women
 
 WINTEK. 
 
 are every now and then comforted with the assurance that they 
 have already got through the worst of it, and that the last two 
 miles will be quite easy, compared to what they have gone 
 through. 
 
 Lonesome and dreary are many of the places which the 
 old carrier has to pass in the Winter, the lengthy road be- 
 tween the dark plantations, which were infested with robbers, 
 a score years ago ; and the weary moorland, with its solitary 
 sheet of water, which looks as black as ink, when the sur- 
 rounding scenery is covered over with snow ; and the great 
 frozen reeds and rushes stand up stiffly, with their sharp 
 edges; the water-flags looking as if they would cut through 
 you ; and the bushes that bend over the pools have a cold, 
 white, forbidding look, making you feel that if you were to fall 
 into the water, you would hardly like to lay hold of their chilly- 
 frozen, snow-covered sprays, to pull yourself out again, sofreez- 
 ingly cold do they appear. And the old man feels all this, when 
 he is returning home by himself, on a winter-night ; and has been 
 heard to remark, that both the plantation and the edge of the 
 moorland, would be nasty places for a man to take up his 
 night's lodging in, when the snow lies deep upon the ground. 
 And on dark nights he hangs his lantern at the front of his 
 cart ; and if the sky is clear, and the air free from fog, and 
 you should happen to be standing upon some distant eminence, 
 you can see the light, which moves, so slow, that for a long 
 time you fancy it is stationary ; r and when satisfied that it does 
 move, and are aware what light it is, you then begin to wonder 
 at what hour of the night he will reach home. And some, 
 times the valley we have described as being covered with snow, 
 is flooded, and unless the waters should be out to what he 
 terms, " hedge-height depth," he still continues his journeys on 
 the market-days, for every hedge, and tree, and post, are to 
 him true landmarks ; and so accustomed is he to the road, that 
 
 he seldom swerves a yard from it; for, when there are no 
 U
 
 A SNOW STORM. 
 
 objects on either hand to guide him, he keeps his' eye stead, 
 fastly fixed on some well-known point in the distance, and can 
 tell by the depth his horses are in the water, whether or not 
 they are keeping about the middle of the highway. When he 
 has had an extra pint of ale, he will sometimes make a boast 
 in the village alehouse that he could find his way to Market- 
 Baisen blindfolded; and there is little doubt but what he 
 could : as for his horses, they have gone on miles by them- 
 selves, many a time, while he was asleep in his cart; but then, 
 as he said, "they never went any other way in their lives." 
 A knowing old man is the Village Carrier. 
 
 Though it happened many years ago, that old carrier will 
 never forget the dreadful Snow-storm, which in one night 
 covered the valley to a frightful depth, and was driven by the 
 wind against the long line of hills, where it gathered drift 
 upon drift, in many an up-piled range, until it looked as if a new 
 upland had arisen, long, high, and deep, the gathering together 
 of many a wind-whirled wreath of snow. It was the last Satur- 
 day night before Christmas-day, when he was returning home on 
 his journey from the distant market-town ; and as he quitted 
 the last few houses, and exchanged a " good-night" with such of 
 the inhabitants as he knew, many looked up to the sky, and 
 remarked that there would be a heavy fall of snow before 
 morning, for not a star was visible in the sky, nor could you tell 
 where the moon was, although it was at the full. He had with 
 him in the cart a young girl, about fourteen years of age, who 
 was going home to spend the Christmas with her widowed 
 mother. She knew when she reached the carrier's house her 
 little brother would be there to meet her ; and she thought how 
 easily they would carry the light box between them, and how 
 soon they should walk over the two miles of ground which 
 would bring them to her mother's cottage, which stood at 
 the bottom of the steep, hilly lane. The boy was at the 
 carrier's house long before she arrived, and many a wistful 
 
 B 2 19
 
 WINTEK. 
 
 glance did he cast at the door, as it was opened and shut, every 
 now and then, by the woman, who began to feel uneasy about 
 her husband, as it was past the time at which he usually arrived. 
 She had several times remarked, " Oh, what a night!" as she 
 resumed her seat beside the fire, facing the boy : he made no 
 answer, but sat watching the snow-flakes which had been 
 drifted in by the eddying wind, as they melted one by one, upon 
 the warm and cheerful hearth. "You will never be able to 
 walk home to-night," said the carrier's wife, "you will both 
 have to stay here until morning ; we can manage to make shift 
 somehow." The boy looked at her a few moments in silence, 
 then said, " Not go home to-night ! Mother told me she should 
 sit up for us, if it was ever so late before we came." Just then 
 a loud gust of wind struck the side of the house, as if it would 
 level it to the ground, and blew the door wide open ; and in a 
 few moments, the whole of the floor was white over with snow. 
 The boy rose from his seat to latch the door more securely ; 
 and ere he sat down, said, " I should like to go and meet them, 
 if you thought it would n't be far : Etty has never been home 
 but once since Whitsuntide, and that was only one day at the 
 feast." But the woman dissuaded him from going, and told 
 him that Etty would be warm enough amidst the straw at the 
 bottom of the tilted cart. This seemed to pacify the boy a 
 little, and he ate a mouthful or two of the bread and cheese 
 which she had cut him, then laid the rest upon the table. At 
 another time he would have finished it all in about five minutes, 
 but now he was uneasy, through thinking about his sister and 
 his mother. Meantime the carrier had reached the high hilly 
 road, which led in a direct line to his own door. He had per- 
 suaded his youthful passenger to get out, and walk beside him, 
 without telling her why he did so ; but such was the force of 
 the wind that he expected every moment his cart would be 
 blown over, and then he thought that some of the heavy boxes 
 or hampers, might fall upon her, and injure her ; so he held the
 
 THE CARRIERS HOME. 
 
 horse, and led it with one hand, while with the other he took 
 hold of the little girl, and thus they measured their slow steps 
 through the keen, cutting wind, and the heavy falling snow. 
 The candle had long stood at the little end-window of the house ; 
 and, as the carrier's eye first caught it in the distance, he said, 
 " See, there it is !" for, as it threw out its rays upon the night, it 
 seemed like a bright burning star amid the din and desolation 
 of that wintry landscape. The careful housewife had placed a 
 pair of shoes, and a coat before the fire, and the kettle had so 
 long sung to itself upon the hob, that the boy wondered a dozen 
 times to himself whether or not it would give over. None but 
 an ear accustomed to the lightest change of sound would have 
 heard the noise of those muffled wheels, as they came along 
 slowly, and heavily, through the snow; and when she jumped up, 
 and rushed to the door exclaiming, "Here they come !" the boy 
 also rose up, and, listening with his head aside, said, " I don't 
 hear 'em ;" but when he got to the door, he could see a dark 
 mass of something moving towards him, through the drifted 
 snow. The little girl was first carefully attended to, and seated 
 in the warmest place beside the fire, and then the carrier's wife 
 helped her husband to bring in the boxes and parcels, which 
 were placed upon the floor ; the storm rushing in with such 
 force all the time, that it made the bright toasting-forks, and 
 ladles, and bridles, and bits, and stirrups, which hung up 
 against the opposite wall, jingle one against the other. A few 
 words had passed between the carrier and his wife outside the 
 door, and he came in, as if to warm his hands, while his real 
 intention was to persuade the children to remain all night ; but 
 the girl's answer was so earnest, and so full of feeling, when she 
 said that she knew how unhappy her mother would be, and as 
 for herself, she should not be able to sleep a moment, that it 
 became painful to press her further, for she had a hundred 
 reasons for going, and not one for remaining behind. The 
 hardy boy also mustered up courage to speak, and said, that they
 
 WINTER. 
 
 were not made of salt, and so could not melt away; and as for 
 the road, that was easy to find, and the box would shovel away 
 the snow, as they carried it between them. " Well," said the 
 carrier, shrugging up his shoulders, " I will not compel you to 
 stay ; and, since you are so bent upon going, I will take you to 
 the end of Foss-Dyke lane, before I unharness my horses, it 
 will save you a mile." They both kindly entreated of him not 
 to do so, he would have to come back by himself, they said, and 
 they should soon be there ; but on this point he was resolute, 
 and buttoning up his coat again, which he had unloosened for 
 a few moments, he went outside, wiped the snow from off the 
 horses, put the children with the little box inside the cart, saying 
 to his wife as he departed, " I shall not be long," and again re- 
 sumed his journey. The high range of hills along which he 
 now passed was called the Cliff, or Scar ; if you stood on the 
 steep acclivity on a clear day, and looked down into the valley, 
 you saw ledge below ledge, which told you how the ocean, ages 
 ago, had ebbed, and then remained stationary, then rolled away 
 again, and again stood still, until it once more emptied its 
 waters somewhere out at the mouth of that vast valley, then 
 paused, until a new table-land was formed ; for so was the whole 
 slope, from the summit of the cliff left, in wavy ridges, and steep 
 level embankments, for miles and miles along; and now over 
 all these the snow had drifted from that wide unsheltered val- 
 ley, and still kept gathering in vast heaps everywhere, saving 
 upon the road where our travellers journeyed ; for from the 
 highway it was blown onward, to the foot of other, and more 
 distant hills. 
 
 At the end of the lane, the carrier left his passengers, bidding 
 them be sure to take care, and keep on in a direct course ; for he 
 knew that they were scarcely a mile from their mother's cottage : 
 and after he had gone, with the snow beating in their faces, 
 the children went cheerfully along their way, carrying the little 
 
 box between them. As the wind blew direct from the village 
 22
 
 ETTY AND HER BROTHER. 
 
 to which they were journeying, they heard the church clock 
 strike eleven, and the boy said, " In another half-hour we shall 
 see mother." The road was all down hill, and as the snow 
 added much to the lightness of the night, they found no other 
 difficulty than in its depth, for the first quarter of a mile, so went 
 on keeping the centre of the road. As they proceeded further, 
 to where the hilly way dipped down more abruptly, they re- 
 marked to each other, that the hedges on either hand were more 
 than half hidden, and they went onward and onward until the 
 snow covered them midway, and they found that, light as the box 
 was, holding it up so high, made it very heavy ; and when the 
 tops of the hedges were no longer visible, and they could only 
 see the dark outline of some tree, whose stem was already 
 buried, it was then that they paused, and looked at one 
 another and heaving a deep sigh, Etty said, " We shall never 
 get home to night!" The boy stood upon the box, and looking 
 over the scene, said, " I can see the three elms that hang over 
 mother's cottage, but Farmer Ingram 's five-barred gate, which 
 I know we are close upon, is covered with snow, and that is 
 just as high as my head, for I measured myself there last sum- 
 mer, when I was tenting the corn dear Etty, what will 
 mother do for us!" But Etty was seated upon the box, with her 
 face buried in her hands, sobbing aloud ; the boy sat beside his 
 sister, and taking hold of her hand said, " Don't cry so, Etty, 
 let us say our prayers you know mother told us, that God 
 could do every thing." Etty said she would not cry, and rising 
 up, placed her hand upon his shoulder, and mounting upon the 
 box, exclaimed "I can see lights moving about where the 
 elm-trees stand ; oh ! God ! perhaps poor mother has set out 
 to meet us, and is lost, and they are seeking for her in the snow." 
 And as she spoke, the picture rose so vividly before her youthful 
 imagination, as in fancy she saw her dear widowed mother 
 dragged out from under the deep snow-drift, pale, and cold, 
 and stiff, and dead, that she unconsciously uttered a loud 
 
 23
 
 WINTER. 
 
 shriek, and fell as if lifeless among the high piled drift. The 
 brave little brother forgot all about his own safety, while he 
 tried to restore his sister, and as he knelt over her, and took 
 off his cap to make a pillow for her head, while the teal's fol- 
 lowed each other in rapid succession down his hardy cheeks, 
 his heart sunk within him ; for although he called " Etty ! 
 Etty ! " in every endearing and plaintive tone, she made no 
 answer; and when he kissed her he found her lips cold as death ; 
 and as he raised her arm for a moment, it again dropped 
 by her side, motionless, resting just where it fell. His first 
 act was to jump up, and plunge headlong into the snow in the 
 direction of home, to fetch his mother. But a few yards 
 before him the road went down sheer and deep ; it was the 
 steepest part of that hilly lane ; and after struggling overhead 
 in the snow for a minute or two, he found his way back to 
 his unconscious sister, and sitting down beside her, wrung his 
 hands and wept aloud. But even in that bleak and bitter 
 night, God's good angels were abroad, and walking the earth ; 
 and it might be that the prayers of those children had drawn 
 to the spot one of the invisible messengers ; for, if prayer 
 can reach up to the gates of heaven, who can tell how many 
 " ministering spirits " are ever waiting there to do the 
 Almighty's bidding ? And, perhaps, one of these stood in the 
 highway, unseen by the carrier, and prevented his horses 
 from moving further, even as an angel stopped the ass on 
 which Balaam rode. For thrice did the horses halt within a 
 brief space of time ; and as the carrier's heart had for some 
 time smote him, for leaving the children at the end of the 
 lane to find their way home by themselves, he resolved to turn 
 back ; he did so, and the horses seemed again to move along 
 cheerfully. " Something told me," said the old earner after, 
 " that the children were in danger; and the instant the horses 
 went so freely along of their own accord, I knew it was so ; 
 and from the moment I started to go back, my heart felt 
 
 24
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 lighter, and I seemed to breathe more freely as for the snow 
 and wind, I scarcely felt either." 
 
 The drift was settling fast down, and covering over the 
 two children ; for deep, heart-breaking sorrow had so be- 
 numbed every other feeling in the poor boy, that, as he 
 sat holding the cold, lifeless hand of his sister within his 
 own, he felt not the snow gathering over him felt not the 
 big white flakes as they settled down upon his naked head, 
 melting, at first, one by one, until a few remained, and 
 others came faster and faster he saw them not, he felt 
 them not, as he bent over the form of his dear sister ; even 
 his sobbing became less audible, and a dull, drowsy feel- 
 ing was unconsciously creeping over him that cold sleep 
 which many a benighted traveller has sunk under, never 
 more to wake again until the last trumpet sounds, and the 
 grave gives up its hidden families of the dead. A few more 
 of those low, unconscious sobs, and all would have been over; 
 the snow would have been "their winding-sheet" when, hark ! 
 there came a sound as if driven back through the wind it ap- 
 proached nearer ; he heard the creaking of wheels ; then the 
 jingling of harness that sound had saved them both from 
 death; he sprang up, as it were, unaware; he raised his 
 sister in his arms, he parted the long hair from her face, he 
 strained his eyes, and looked forward ; in a moment he was all 
 eyes, all ears ; then the wind came with another long, deep 
 howl ; it passed on, and the same sounds were heard again ; 
 he caught the "gee-whoop" of the carrier he could not 
 be far off, there were not many yards between them; he 
 shouted, and received an answer ; both cart and horses were 
 fast, and he heard the heavy plod, plod, of the carrier, as he 
 came along by himself, for his cart and horses could make no 
 further progress along that deep, hilly, and snow- covered lane. 
 The kind-hearted old carrier took the girl in his arms, as if she 
 had but been a mere child, and placed her upon the straw 
 
 25
 
 WINTER. 
 
 at the bottom of the cart; and whilst he was endeavouring to 
 restore her, his wife came up, for she also had begun to feel 
 uneasy, and said, that had she met her husband, she was 
 determined to persuade him to turn back, and see whether 
 the children had arrived in safety at home. They returned 
 to the carrier's house, and Etty was soon in a warm, sound 
 sleep, for she felt easier after she had knelt down and pray- 
 ed for her mother. Nor had she been asleep more than 
 an hour, when a loud knocking was heard at the door, for a 
 man had come all the way round by the low road, which ran 
 along the middle of the valley, and was five or six miles 
 further than the nearest way, which was now impassable. All 
 this way had that kind-hearted man come, that he might 
 gather tidings of the safety of the children. For their mother 
 had fainted away many times during that awful night; and 
 although kind neighbours attended upon her, yet they could 
 afford her no comfort ; and it was not until this poor labourer 
 volunteered to go, and see what had befallen them, that she 
 could be at all pacified. The carrier got up, and persuaded 
 him to take one of the best horses in his stable, and make all 
 the speed he could back, by that long, round-about, low road, 
 where the snow had not gathered in deep drifts, and to tell the 
 fond mother that both her children were safe. But nothing 
 could dissuade the brave boy from accompanying him; so he 
 was at last allowed to ride behind, for he said, " When my 
 mother sees me, she will know that Etty is safe, or I should 
 never leave her." They reached home in about two hours in 
 safety, and brought comfort to the sad heart of that fond and 
 disconsolate mother. The little box was not found until after 
 many days, when the snow had melted away ; and there are 
 those yet living who well remember that night. Etty heard 
 the village bells ringing for church, as, accompanied by the 
 honest carrier, she entered her home ; what her feelings were 
 when she remembered, how, from that church-tower she heard 
 
 26
 
 BIRDS IN WINTER. 
 
 the clock strike eleven on the previous night, I cannot tell you, 
 but her eyes were filled with tears, as she raised her sweet face, 
 and looked at the old carrier, while with her finger she pointed 
 to the village church. 
 
 I before told you that many strange birds visit us in 
 Winter, which we never meet with in our rambles at any other 
 season of the year ; excepting it be a straggler or so, that has 
 remained behind. While others, which stay with us all the 
 year round, are frequently driven by the sharp frosts, and 
 snow, to search for food, nearer the habitations of man. We see 
 them about the barn-door, and in the stack-yard, perched upon 
 the palings, and busy in the garden ; for they find both food and 
 warmth near our abodes, when the fields, and the forests yield 
 neither ; for then the little Titmouse pulls the straw from out 
 the cottage eaves, to get at the insects which are concealed 
 within. Even the Thrush and the Blackbird will enter into 
 the farmyard in quest of food ; and the latter will frequently ven- 
 ture up to the very threshold, in quest of crumbs. But the 
 Bunting is the most mischievous of all these Winter visitors, 
 for a flock of them would soon unroof a stack, by drawing out 
 the straws one by one, to get at the corn underneath. Wag- 
 tails may also be seen about the ponds and water-courses, and 
 the river-sides, in search of insects. These are the smallest birds 
 that walk, lifting up first one leg, then the other ; for most 
 little birds, as you must have noticed, hop along as if both their 
 legs were tied fast together. You will wonder, when I tell you, 
 that although so many birds leave us in the Winter, the smallest 
 British bird that is known, remains with us the whole year; and 
 that is, the Golden crested Wren. Throughout frost or snow, 
 may this beautiful little thing be seen, hopping about the fir trees, 
 or amongst the green leaves of the holly, or ivy. When full- 
 grown the golden-crested wren, does not weigh more than 
 eighty or ninety grains; yet, in the breeding season, it has been 
 watched, and for sixteen hours a day, has it made thirty-six 
 
 17
 
 WINTER. 
 
 journeys every hour, and returned each time -with food for its 
 young ones. Oh ! that some idle boy may read this, take out 
 his pencil, and reckon up how many hundreds of journeys this 
 little bird made in sixteen hours to feed its young, the weight 
 of food it must have carried in the course of the day, and how 
 tired it must have been by night ! I think, after such an ex- 
 ample of industry, set him by the smallest bird that is known 
 in England, he will blush if he ever finds himself idling away 
 his time again, when he has matters of business to attend to. 
 But of all our winter favourites the Robin-red-breast stands 
 chief; for he is familiar to us all : and the little child, which can 
 only just manage to walk, will toddle to the door to throw a few 
 crumbs down for the robin. He is endeared to us by the ties 
 of poetry, and we never recall the old ballad of the " Babes in 
 the Wood" without picturing the robin -red-breast, that "did 
 cover them with leaves." Sometimes he hops upon the win- 
 dow, leaving pretty marks of his little feet upon the snow, and 
 peeping through the pane with his dark, bright eyes, asks us, as 
 well as he can, for food : if a few shovel-fulls of earth are 
 thrown up in the garden, there he is rummaging about to see 
 what he can find; and if the spade is left on end in the soil, he 
 sometimes mounts upon the handle of it, and sings away, as if 
 there was no such thing as Winter in the world. Nor is it in 
 Autumn, or Winter, only, that the redbreast sings ; for I have 
 frequently heard it in Summer, and seen it too, whilst it was 
 singing. Neither does it fly, like an ingrate, from the abode of 
 man, in the Summer season ; for only keep a sharp look out, 
 and you will see him on the garden hedge, or upon the palings, 
 many times during the Summer months of the year, for it is 
 never far absent, unless when building its nest, or rearing its 
 young. True, it is not so much in need of crumbs then as now, 
 for in Summer it can find plenty of insects to feed upon ; though 
 there are instances on record, of its having entered the cottage 
 in Summer to pick up what it could find on the floor. 
 
 28
 
 ROBINS AND SPARROWS. 
 
 A pleasing sight is it to see a group of children standing 
 aainst the door in Winter, 
 
 FEEDING THE ROBINS. 
 
 How delighted they appear, as step by step he comes hopping 
 nearer, until, at last, he reaches the furthermost crumbs ; and 
 then, finding that he has nothing to fear, becomes bolder at 
 every hop, until he is within reach of the children's feet. 
 Poor little fellow ! his boldness, like that of many a brave man's, 
 sometimes costs him his life, for he has before now pecked his 
 way up to the very hearth of the cottage, never dreaming that 
 the cruel cat was there, ready to eat him up at a mouthful. 
 Then the sparrows! what boy has not heard their "chirp, 
 chirp," upon the roof in a whiter morning, sounding not unlike 
 the sharp, short stroke of a knife-grinder, when he is putting 
 the finish to his work ; dusky, dirty dogs are those sparrows ! 
 and get skulking under the smoky eaves until they are some- 
 times almost as black as a parcel of little sweeps. And oh ! 
 what fellows they are to fight ! they do sometimes give one 
 another such a licking, that we could almost fancy the young 
 gentleman who has had the worst of it, must be glad to keep 
 his bed under the tiles for a day or two at least. Then they are 
 such thieves too ! Bless you ! they no more mind popping into 
 
 29
 
 WINTEE. 
 
 another's nest, whilst the owner is out, and lying down as com- 
 fortably as if it was their own, than they do about dropping off 
 the eaves, to pick up a bit of bread ; and when the poor sparrow 
 returns, who had built the nest, the thief who has taken posses- 
 sion, will thrust out his thick, hard, horny beak, and peck and 
 snap at the rightful owner; and if this does not drive him away, 
 he turns out, and then they fight for it, and sometimes the robber 
 comes off with the worst of it. Occasionally the sparrows will 
 take possession of a rookery in winter, and ensconce themselves 
 within the old nests, and a pretty squabbling do they kick up 
 about it, as to which shall sleep in the best chamber ; or, as 
 one has observed, about the rooks themselves, quarrelling at 
 bedtime, about which should have the largest share of the 
 blanket Many an hour did we amuse ourselves in the winter 
 by catching the sparrows in a trap made of four bricks, merely 
 for the fun of letting them go again, and we have caught the 
 same bird twice in one winter. Our plan was to rear two 
 bricks up edgewise, but sufficiently apart to allow another 
 brick placed flat, to fall in between them, with a fourth reared 
 across on the edge, at the ends of the first two bricks ; we 
 propped up the flat one which came in between with a bit of 
 stick, to which a small piece of bread was fastened by a string. 
 When .the sparrow entered, and began to peck at the bread, 
 down came the stick, and the elevated end of the brick which 
 lay with the flat side downwards, fell upon the edge of the one 
 which was placed crosswise, and there he was safe enough, 
 without doing him any injury; and after we had examined 
 him, and sometimes ornamented his neck with a bit of red 
 leather or ribbon, we gave him a chuck, and away he went ; 
 and next morning, perhaps, he sat chirping upon the eaves 
 amongst the rest of his brother sparrows, just as if nothing at 
 all had happened to him. Once we ornamented one with a 
 blue silk cap, which was stitched very neatly under his throat, 
 but in a few weeks he had made it so dirty, that it became 
 so
 
 WILD GEESE. 
 
 the very colour of himself; and we verily believe that he died 
 through being overfed, for he was in size a very Daniel Lam- 
 bert amongst the sparrows, as his capped head never appeared 
 but what we threw him out a handful of food : for four winters 
 did he reside under the same roof, without once changing his 
 lodging. Many a flock of 
 
 WILD GEESE 
 
 have I seen alight, in the fens and marshes of Lincolnshire, in 
 Whiter ; and often have I heard them passing over the village 
 in the night, when I could not see them ; uttering, every now 
 and then, their shrill, wild cry, high up in the air, as they 
 sailed along in the darkness. What strange shapes have I 
 seen a flock assume during their flight ! Sometimes they took 
 the shape of the letter V ; then one side would open out, not 
 unlike L, though still presenting a point foremost: and so 
 would they ever continue, changing the form of the figure, and 
 adapting it to the currents of air through which they had to 
 cleave their way, just as it opposed, or favoured their course. 
 Their flight was, also, generally far beyond the reach of gun- 
 shot. I knew an old wildgoose shooter, whose gun was near 
 seven feet long, and have often heard him say that they were 
 the most difficult birds to approach that he knew; and he 
 would often lie down flat in his boat-bottom, and so go drop-
 
 WINTER. 
 
 ping down the sluices, in the marshes, to get at them ; for, if 
 he once raised his head, so that it could be seen above the 
 banks, they were up, and off in an instant ; so he used to float 
 silently along, trusting to the noise they made while feeding, to 
 tell him when the exact moment had arrived to spring up, 
 without so much as saying, " Are you ready, my gentlemen?" 
 Sometimes they are reached by what is called a " stalking- 
 horse," which is a blanket, or piece of canvas, stretched on a 
 light frame, large enough to conceal a man behind ; and, with 
 this before him, the wildgoose-shooter will draw nearer and 
 nearer to the flock ; for if their eyes once become familiar with an 
 object, without, in the first instance, creating an alarm, they 
 will permit it to approach them without suspicion. But the 
 
 WILD SWAN 
 
 is the noblest bird of the whole aquatic species. Just fancy see- 
 ing half a score of these fine, noble fellows sailing about, in some 
 solitary bend of the river, all as white as snow, weighing nearly
 
 WILD SWAN. 
 
 twenty pounds each, and sometimes five feet long, and, when 
 their snowy wings are stretched out, measuring above seven feet 
 across that is something like a sight, I can tell you ! Then, 
 there is the comfort of thinking that, if you can but capture 
 them, they will be your own ; for nobody living can lay claim 
 to them : they have no owner, nor no one can tell exactly from 
 what country they came. And oh ! what a wild, singing sound 
 they make ! you might almost fancy that it was a cuckoo 
 flying over your head, did you not know that the cuckoo 
 never winters with us, and that the bird whose call you hear 
 is about sixty times larger, and that the sound is also louder. 
 While feeding, this cry is not so loud; and there is then some- 
 thing very pleasing and musical in the sound. Beautiful do they 
 look when asleep upon the water, borne gently along by the cur- 
 rent ; while the wind comes, as if in sport, at times, to ruffle 
 their snow-white plumage, as if only to peep at the silvery down 
 which is hidden beneath. Beautiful must it be to behold them, 
 
 " Floating double, swan and shadow," 
 
 in the silent lochs, which spread out at the base of the ma- 
 jestic mountains of Scotland, where they sit upon the waters, 
 sleeping like the Spirit of the Calm, who has folded her white 
 wings, and come down to dream in that quiet loch, around 
 which the solemn mountain shadows keep a silent watch. 
 Fitting spot would that be, in the still midnight, to listen to 
 the song of the dying swan, which, if aught like what poets 
 have imagined it to be, is a music such as mortals are sel- 
 dom permitted to hear, and which never yet sank into the 
 heart of a misbelieving naturalist. And I am compelled to 
 write my name amongst the number, who believe that the 
 death-song of the wild swan had its origin in some beautiful 
 fable, the hidden meaning of which has been lost for many a 
 forgotten age. 
 
 I will now describe to you the method of capturing the 
 
 c 33
 
 WINTER. 
 
 WILD DUCK, 
 
 which, when it is explained, I think you will allow to be, per- 
 haps, the most singular of all the plans adopted to catch water- 
 fowl at this season of the year, Near their favourite haunt 
 a ditch is dug, about four yards across, at the entrance, and not 
 more than two feet wide at the narrow end : this is circular, 
 although, for the first few yards, it bends but little. The en- 
 trance about this ditch, or pipe, as it is called, is kept clear of 
 reeds and rushes, so that the wild ducks may be enticed to 
 settle about the banks to preen or peck themselves. On both 
 sides of this ditch stakes are made fast in the ground, and 
 brought together at the top ; for strong willows will bend to 
 any thing. As the ditch narrows, wooden hoops are stretched 
 across, and each end stuck into the ground : over all these a 
 net is thi-own; and you can readily imagine that, when the 
 ducks are once in the creek, and under this awning of net- 
 work, they keep swimming further in until they get to the end. 
 But, lest they should be in no hurry to enter, a dog is trained 
 
 84
 
 WILD DUCKS. 
 
 up to drive them into the water ; and, when he has once suc- 
 ceeded in doing this, he keeps making his appearance, at dif- 
 ferent holes between the stakes, until he gets them up to the 
 end of the diteh. Just picture to yourself the wild ducks, 
 sitting quite comfortably, two or three dozen of them, perhaps, 
 together, preening themselves, as it is called, and drying their 
 feathers, when, suddenly, something stirs it is the dog, and 
 into the water they go. Some say that the dog's motions en- 
 tice them in, and that, by making his appearance at different 
 places under the net, their curiosity leads them forward to see 
 what it is. Once, however, in, they are secure ; for the man, 
 who is concealed at the entrance, has only to step forward, 
 wave his hat, and frighten them in a little further, should 
 they not be far enough, then give the mouth of the net a 
 twist, and they are quite safe ; for he has no difficulty in 
 taking them out, one by one, as he keeps narrowing and tight- 
 ening the net. Tame ducks are "also trained to lead the way 
 into these nets, and are called " decoy-ducks:" they are easily 
 known by the man when he comes to take them out, and are 
 treated much better than they deserve ; for they are spared to 
 decoy others in again, whilst the poor innocent wild ducks, they 
 led into the snare, are killed. I need not attempt to draw any 
 moral from these decoy-ducks ; for every sensible boy will see 
 the moral in a moment, and not a few, perhaps, will remember 
 how innocently they have sometimes got into a scrape, while the 
 the originator of the mischief escaped ; and how, at other times, 
 by unthinkingly doing what we have seen others do, we uncon- 
 sciously get ourselves into trouble, as I once did by following a 
 schoolfellow into a garden, which, he said, was his uncle's, and 
 that I might help myself to whatever I liked. I did, and was 
 caught by the owner, who was no relation of the boy's, and who 
 had the effrontery to assert that he never said the garden was his 
 uncle's. I, however, had the good fortune to be believed, and 
 escaped with a slight reprimand, whilst he was punished ; for 
 
 c 2 35
 
 WINTER. 
 
 I did not, at the moment, think how wrong it was of me to take 
 the fruit, even believing, as I did, that it was his uncle's, unless 
 I had had that uncle's consent. That boy was a decoy-duck : 
 he allured me under the net; and, fortunately, I escaped, 
 whilst he was caught. But justice does not always hold her 
 scales with so even a hand as she did on that occasion ; for it 
 too often happens that the greatest rogue gets off, and the in- 
 nocent suffer, especially amongst boys. For a noble-minded 
 lad, if he is guilty at all, will generally take to himself the 
 largest share of the blame, and leave the meaner ones to get 
 off with as many excuses as they can make. I remember a 
 fine-spirited lad once enticing us into a boat, which the captain 
 had left fastened to the side of the wharf whilst he went on 
 shore. The captain returned long before we came back with 
 the boat; and, when we rowed in sight, threatened that he 
 would give us all a ducking the moment we landed. " You 
 shall not suffer for me," said our companion, landing us at 
 another wharf where he knew we should escape the ducking. 
 He then rowed up to where the captain was still waiting, his 
 anger increased all the more through having had to wait. " I 
 took the boat, captain," said the boy, " and am the only one 
 there is to blame. I would not have done so had I thought 
 you would have wanted it." The captain was a noble-hearted 
 sailor, and held out his hand, and forgave him in a moment. 
 That boy was not a " decoy-duck." 
 
 It is amusing to watch the attitudes and expressive looks 
 of cattle when they come to the pond to drink, for the first 
 time, after it is frozen over. Deceived by the smooth glit- 
 tering surface, they bend their necks as usual, when, instead of 
 plunging their mouths into the soft, yielding water, they find a 
 hard, cold substance, through which they cannot penetrate, and 
 it is not until after they have made several attempts that they 
 appear satisfied there is something wrong. One succeeds 
 another, and, in spite of the lowing they make, each seems
 
 CATTLE IN WINTER. 
 
 determined to judge for itself; nor will they, after they have 
 returned disappointed, move far from the spot, but still con- 
 tinue lowing, and looking in the direction of the farm-yard, as 
 if they expected assistance from that quarter. After the ice 
 has been broken for them two or three times, they then gather 
 about the pond in the morning, and patiently wait until the 
 farmer-man approaches with his mallet to break through the 
 frozen mass, before they quench their thirst. Should he find 
 only one solid sheet of ice up to the edge, or shallow part, of the 
 pond, he ventures very cautiously upon it, and, with a stout rail 
 in his hand, begins to break away as far out as he can reach ; for 
 where it is deep, he is sure to find plenty of water beneath the 
 ice. His weather-stained frock gives him quite a picturesque 
 appearance, as he stands in the midst of the cattle, which are 
 marked black, and white, and red; while around him floats 
 their warm, fragrant breath, surrounding him everywhere, as if 
 he stood in the steaming atmosphere of a brewery. Some- 
 times, during a winter's walk, a freezing shower comes rattling 
 about our heads, causing the branches of the trees to look as 
 if they were incased in glass, and hanging upon the slender 
 and pointed sprays, like drooping diamonds ; the ruby berries 
 and emerald leaves of the holly look as if they were shut in a 
 jewel-case of the purest crystal, and the tufted reeds and 
 rushes glitter again, as if they were hung with pendants of 
 silver. The withered grass is bowed down beneath these 
 weighty gems; and the poor birds hop about with an ill grace, 
 as if they did not at all like being encumbered with such a 
 load of unnecessary ornaments. Even the ragged ass, on the 
 common, finds his uncombed mane decorated with precious 
 stones of the purest water, which he shakes off as speedily as 
 he can, as if he knew that such useless ornaments would only 
 make him appear more ridiculous in the eyes of his brother 
 donkeys. But of all things which the frost selects to display 
 its beautiful workmanship upon, nowhere does its exquisite 
 
 37
 
 WINTER. 
 
 tracery show to such advantage as upon glass. What pictu- 
 resque wintry landscapes have I seen on a frosted pane ! 
 Sometimes as of a wild, mountainous country, covered over 
 with snow, with here and there a little cottage, half-buried 
 beneath the heavy mass which had fallen into the valley 
 below ; or, high up, was the hunter indistinctly seen in the 
 far distance, descending from the giddy heights. At times 
 the scene was a vast solitary forest, amid the silence and 
 desolation of which no living thing moved; not even a breath 
 of wind seemed ever to have stirred a feathery snow-flake, and 
 every way the eye caught glimpses of deep hollows, filled with 
 snow, across which huge trees stretched, with their entangled 
 roots, which were twisted into a thousand fantastic forms, and 
 lay heavily upon the white underwood they had crushed in 
 their fall. On another pane the frost had shaped itself into 
 an English landscape ; and far away over the snow-covered 
 fields, which were diversified by many a long hedge, and many 
 a lonely cottage, and thatched homestead, there seemed to 
 rise the village spire in the distance, amid its clump of frozen 
 trees, while a long line of white undulating hills, filled up the 
 background of the picture; and all the foreground was covered 
 wilh fan-like ferns and silver fir-trees, and such flowers as the 
 eye never saw, saving in that fanciful and frosted garden. 
 Sometimes a wide moorland seemed to spread out, where not a 
 rude hut rose, neither was there any vestige of a human habita- 
 tion, nor the outline of a lonely road, to tell that aught living 
 had ever moved over that solitary scene ; but, far as the eye 
 could stretch, it seemed one unbounded and untrodden desert 
 of snow. Many an hour did I amuse myself, when a boy, by 
 tracing upon the frozen panes such scenes as these ; and even 
 in a bright fire, on a winter's night, has the imagination also 
 been at work, tracing castle, and crag, and ragged precipices, 
 and lofty mountains, whose deep gorges were lighted up with 
 a blazing sunset of gold. Such trifles as these prove that the
 
 PLEASUKES OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 mind of an imaginative boy need never for a moment want 
 either an object for amusement or for meditation; for even the 
 book that is read through and closed, to a fanciful boy, will 
 still furnish new entertainment, for the inward eye will then 
 endeavour to call up the very scenes he has been reading 
 about the characters will pass before him, one by one, 
 while each stirring incident rises up with all its life-like 
 action. If on sea, we picture the shipwrecked man, clinging 
 to a spar, and tossed by the angry billow upon the beach. We 
 see the tiger, from which he had so narrow an escape, retreat, 
 bleeding and wounded, into the jungle. We hear the thunder 
 of the deep avalanche tearing down the steep mountain-pass, 
 which the traveller had but a few minutes before left; and we 
 behold the oak under which he had sheltered when the tem- 
 pest first commenced, driven into a thousand pieces by the 
 dreaded thunderbolt. And as the mind thus pictures the 
 incidents which link page to page in the volume, we seem 
 somehow to become an actor in all these stirring and dangerous 
 scenes. One boy will walk a mile or two through the country, 
 and scarcely meet with a single object that arrests his atten- 
 tion, or furnishes him with matter on which to make a remark 
 when he returns home ; another, more observant, although he 
 traverses scarcely a quarter of the same space of ground, will 
 meet with a hundred things to interest and delight him. So 
 would it be with the frost-work and the fire one would only 
 see a zigzag and unmeaning mass of white, which deadened 
 the light, in the beautiful tracery upon the window-pane ; and 
 the fire would only interest him so far as he was either warm or 
 cold, and according to his feelings, as it burnt either dull or 
 bright : while the other would see in the same objects all we 
 have attempted to describe. 
 
 But I have not yet told you about the great Winter flood, 
 caused by the snow melting and the rains descending from the 
 hilly countries, and the tide, or Heygre, which I before spoke 
 
 39
 
 WINTER. 
 
 of, that came stronger, and made the river rise higher, until it 
 broke through, and overflowed its banks, and covered the whole 
 face of the country for miles and miles around ; rushing through 
 the great open streets of the towns, filling the cellars and burst- 
 ing through the floors, and making such havoc as you never saw. 
 Oh, what a rushing out there was in boats to save the cattle in 
 the fields ! What a pitiful bleating amongst the poor sheep as 
 they swam to and fro, were carried away by the current, or driven 
 onward, until their long fleeces got entangled in some hedge, the 
 top of which was just visible above the waters, where they were 
 
 sometimes found so much exhausted, 
 that the butcher was compelled to 
 kill them the instant he got them into 
 the boat. There we saw farm-houses 
 half hidden by the water, and some- 
 times a whole haystack came sailing 
 along, and men who had ventured in 
 
 THE FLOOD
 
 THE FLOOD. 
 
 up to the middle of the horse, hollaed to us to come nearer with 
 the boat, for they dare not venture any farther ; then we hoisted 
 our sail, and the horsemen followed hi the " wake" of the boat, 
 as we pointed out where the highroad lay that was covered with 
 water ; and sometimes, when it was too deep, we took him in 
 and placed him at the stern, where he held the bridle, while the 
 horse swam heavily behind, until we arrived where the water 
 was shallower, and he could no longer mistake his way, but saw 
 far before him the diy ground, which went rising up to the 
 very foot of the hills. Ah ! that was something like a place to 
 sail in, where we could go straight across without tacking, over 
 the wide marshes and the fields, taking for our landmarks the 
 towers of the village churches Beckingham, and Burton, and 
 Bole, and Sawnby, and Wheatly; and then straight across 
 again through the broken openings in the river-bank, to Lea, 
 and Naith, and Gate-Burton, and Torksey, with its old ruined 
 castle ; far as ever the eye could range over the water-covered 
 valley jf the Trent did we sail, from the foot of the eastern 
 hills to where the western summits sloped opposite ; over gates, 
 and hedges, and stiles, that were buried beneath the flood, and 
 across many a winding footpath and broad highroad, whose 
 "whereabout " we could only now trace by the top of some familiar 
 tree, or the long waving line of some high hedge, in which stoats, 
 and weasels, and rats, and mice, and rabbits, and hares were 
 hidden amongst the drifted hay and straw that had been car- 
 ried thither by the overwhelming current. Then there were 
 vessels which had got out of their course in the river, and 
 had grounded upon some hidden bank, where they stuck fast : 
 and there were farm-houses in the fields, to which we had to 
 carry provisions in our boats ; for the inhabitants were prison- 
 ers in their chambers, and all they had to look at was the wide 
 waste of water which stretched out every way, and to watch the 
 flood, as it rose inch by inch around the walls of their dwell- 
 ings. Many a chase had we after the wild annuals which 
 
 41
 
 WINTER. 
 
 had taken shelter in the hedges. Many a stoat, weasel, and 
 
 FERRET 
 
 did we pursue from tree to tree, and give chase to many a rat 
 who had now no hole in which to hide his head ! Then at night 
 the hells were rung in the village churches, and lights hoisted 
 on the tall steeples, as guides to the boats that were out carry- 
 ing the passengers to and fro ; and voices were heard shouting 
 amongst the hills, as they sought after the cattle which had 
 strayed far away, for the whole countiy around was in a state 
 of commotion ; and ever, as we passed some little cottage, 
 where the old woman and her husband were imprisoned by the 
 waters, she would holla out to us to fetch something from the gro- 
 cer's, telling us, with uplifted hands, that she had neither tea nor 
 sugar, that her coals and potatoes were under water in the cellar 
 below, and that the poor pig was squealing itself to death for want 
 of food ; and then we rowed close under the window, and standing 
 upon the boat " thoft," looked in, where we saw the old man 
 smoking his pipe, beside a little handful of fire, beheld the pig 
 squealing in one corner of the chamber, and saw the cocks and 
 
 42
 
 THE FLOOD. 
 
 hens perched on the chair backs, the boxes, and the tables, 
 while under the bed the ducks were quacking, for the flood had 
 come upon them so suddenly in the night, that the old man 
 had been compelled to take his whole stock of fowls and pigs 
 within doors, to prevent their being drowned. Then after 
 much persuasion, and not without difficulty, we got the old 
 man out of the chamber window into the boat, and rowed him 
 away to the nearest village at the foot of the hills, where he 
 borrowed a little coal until the flood went down, succeeded in 
 obtaining a few potatoes, and a little barley-meal for his pigs, and 
 purchased what articles he was in need of, of the grocer : then, 
 when we had once more landed him safely, with his stores, in 
 his cottage chamber, he bade us to be sure and call upon him in 
 the summer, when the fruit was ripe in his garden, where we 
 should be welcome to whatever we chose. And many a time 
 have I been out in such floods as these, and sailed for miles 
 away with my companions, to the villages which I have named 
 above ; and one large flood I well remember, which covered 
 the whole of the main street in the old town of Gainsborough 
 in Lincolnshire, when boats were rowed up and down, in the 
 streets between the houses, and the poor sailors picked up 
 many a shilling through supplying the wants of the inhabitants ; 
 the ground floors of whose houses were three or four feet 
 under water. The scene rises as vividly before me, as if it 
 was but yesterday, when I took our dinner to the bakehouse 
 in a boat. These, and many other wonders, which I have not 
 space sufficient to write about, without intrenching upon more 
 important matters, did I witness when a boy. 
 
 To the minds of boys generally a bleak, black frost brings 
 but few ideas of misery. They think more of the sliding, and 
 skating on the ponds and rivers which are frozen over, and the 
 pleasure that it will afford, than the stagnation it produces in 
 business, the check it is to all navigation, the number of hands it 
 throws out of employment, especially in out-of-door occupations, 
 
 49
 
 WINTER. 
 
 and even within doors, where its effects are also felt. It nips 
 the fingers of the woodman until he can scarcely wield his axe ; 
 the ditcher cannot continue his labour, for the ground is al- 
 most as hard as iron ; and the plough stands useless in the 
 middle of the frozen field ; it freezes the bricklayer's mortar, 
 and throws out of employment the poor labourer who mixes it ; 
 the rope-maker cannot get his hemp to stretch properly ; the 
 chair-bottomer finds his wet rushes frozen together; the joiner's 
 glue sets almost in no time ; the cobler's wax stands up in his 
 pot, like a black island surrounded with ice. The glazier com- 
 plains of the brittleness of his glass ; the gardener that it nips 
 up all the greens in his grounds ; the turner that the oil has 
 set upon the joints of his lathe ; while the locksmith grins 
 again as he handles the cold iron keys ; and even the black- 
 smith is compelled to wield his heaviest hammer to keep himself 
 warm : for every trade is affected more or less by a keen frost. 
 Even the little tailor, who is almost stuck upon the fire-back, 
 murmurs because his thread breaks so many times, which, he 
 says, is all owing to the frosty weather. Children have chil- 
 blains on their little feet, and old grandmothers complain 
 about their rheumatics; and should a boy break the jug in 
 which he is bringing home either the milk or the ale, why, of 
 course, it is all owing to the frost. Then, if a lad can but find 
 an excuse for fetching a pail of water in, what a quantity he is 
 sure to spill upon the smooth pavement (by accident) yet, 
 somehow, in the very spot where he has been wishing, all day, to 
 make a long, nice slide : and he is up next morning by day- 
 light, and sliding away long ere breakfast- time, until out 
 comes some old man, who can still feel the bumps on his bones 
 which he has had in his time on those " nasty slides;" and with 
 a handful of salt, or a shovel-full of sand or ashes, accompanied 
 by many a growl, he puts an end to all further sliding for 
 that day. And the old man is quite in the right for doing so ; 
 for there are plenty of places, out of the way of all passengers, 
 
 44
 
 A HARD FROST. 
 
 to make slides on, and these are the spots which boys ought 
 always to select. 
 
 I well remember the day when nearly all the rivers in 
 England were frozen over ; when, for weeks, not a ship could 
 move, and water could only be obtained by breaking holes 
 through the thick ice ; when we could skate and slide for hours, 
 without any feeling of danger, past many a marsh, and mea- 
 dow, and wooded banks, which sloped down to the river's rim ; 
 when carts and horses went fearlessly across that frozen path- 
 way, and large fires were kindled in the very centre of that 
 deep river, upon bricks placed on the ice ; when the baker 
 skated to the nearest village with the bread-basket buckled 
 upon his back, and the butcher-boy went sliding after him, with 
 the joint he had to take home slung across his shoulder. Upon 
 the ice the old gingerbread- woman spread out her stall ; and 
 there the publican broached his cask of strongest ale. Benches 
 and chairs were planted round, in which old sailors sat smok- 
 ing, telling of the wonderful things they had seen in the Polar 
 Seas, where the white bears roared, and the huge black whales 
 spouted up water as high as the roof of a house, and great 
 mountains of ice came sailing along, whose summits seemed 
 taller than the topmast of the whaling-vessel in which they 
 then sailed. Then, coals had to be fetched from the distant pits 
 in wagons, for there was no longer any water-conveyance ; and 
 poor, starved, hungry-looking men went about the streets, with 
 a cabbage stuck upon the top of a pole, exclaiming, " Please to 
 remember the frozen-out gardeners;" and strange -looking birds 
 came flocking about the houses in search of food ; for the earth 
 was so frozen that they could not find an insect any where. 
 
 Oh ! what skating there was in those days ! Some could 
 cut out their names upon the ice ; others make all kinds of 
 picturesque flourishes ; and not a few, the moment their 
 skates were fixed on, after much trouble, showed the ice 
 their heels, and came down with a loud bump, which 
 
 45
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 caused all the bystanders to laugh again. These some good- 
 natured skaters would occasionally take in tow, by bidding 
 them lay hold of the end of their hook-stick, while they 
 went foremost, and thus they were dragged along ; and so, 
 after a little practice, and a few more falls, they were enabled 
 to take care of themselves, and, in a few hours, make a stroke 
 or two much to their own satisfaction. Now and then a poor 
 boy, who might be hired for a penny or so, would pull them 
 on ; for it required but little exertion to run faster than an 
 unpractised hand could skate. But sliding was much the live- 
 liest amusement after all. You never saw such slides as we 
 were wont to have upon the river, when it was frozen over ; 
 for we cared but little about them unless they were at least 
 twenty yards long. Then we had one up, and another down ; 
 and we were ever upon each other's heels : for if one boy 
 halted a moment, another was sure to shout out, " Keep 
 the pot a-boiling." For none but good sliders dare venture 
 there, for fear of having their heels tripped up ; for, if one boy 
 fell, the next was sure to tumble over him ; and so on, to the 
 very last who chanced to te upon the slide at the time. And 
 there we oft-times lay, laughing and rolling, a dozen or more 
 down together ; then we were up, and at it again in an instant, 
 ever carrying the same merry faces, just as if nothing at all 
 had happened. Oh ! what a healthy hue it left upon our 
 cheeks ; how it set our youthful blood in circulation ; and cold 
 and biting as the frosty air was, we felt it not, for the exercise put 
 us into a warm perspiration ; and we contrived to have a good 
 long run, to give us " head-way" before we went, with a rapid 
 motion, down the long, smooth slide. And then, there were 
 some boys who could go the whole length upon one leg ; and 
 others who glided along with both their feet together ; some 
 who slided with the left leg first, and others with the right ; 
 and many so clever, that they could turn themselves round, 
 with their faces to those who followed ; and we would lay hold
 
 A WINTER SCENE. 
 
 of one another, and shoot off when halfway down; and do 
 a many more other things, which would set a town-bred boy 
 a wondering. Then, while skating, we used to play at ball 
 upon the ice, each of us carrying a hooked or knobbed stick ; 
 and, forming ourselves into two parties, a round wooden ball 
 was thrown down upon the ice, midway between the two dis- 
 tant goals, or winning-places, which were, perhaps, a mile apart ; 
 and whichever party could first drive the ball to the end of the 
 allotted distance won the game. Sometimes it so chanced that 
 a rapid skater got the first stroke, and then he had it all his 
 own way ; for there was no approaching him until he reached 
 the goal. But these distances could only be played on the 
 long canals, or when the river was frozen over. 
 
 And now I will attempt to describe to you a grand and awful 
 scene ; and such a one as I dare say you never read about in 
 any other book, nor did I ever behold such a scene but once, 
 in the breaking up of the ice on the river. First there came a 
 gentle thaw then the tide, or Heygre, which I have before 
 given you so long a description of, in " Summer," begun its silent 
 work beneath the ice, lifting it up gradually hour by hour, as 
 the body of water continued to arise unperceived, until you 
 were startled every now and then, by loud crackling sounds. 
 In the still night you heard them, and during the calm inter- 
 vals of the day ; and then you saw the edge of a large sheet of 
 ice, raised an inch or two above the mass, and ever the same 
 cracking and banging went on, like the sound of so many gun- 
 shots in rapid succession, and so it continued, the water well- 
 ing through in some places between the edges of the ice, 
 though, with these slight alterations, the eye still alighted 
 upon the same broad, level, frozen surface. Men stood hud- 
 dled together, in groups by the river-side sailors talking of 
 the best measures of securing their ships before the ice broke 
 up ; wharfingers consulting about the safest means of shor- 
 ing-up their wharfs, and preventing the water from washing
 
 WINTER. 
 
 away the piles that they stood upon ; captains and owners 
 arguing whether it would be best to lay the broadside or the 
 head of the vessel to the ice, when it broke up ; some assert- 
 ing it was time enough yet, others arguing there was no time 
 to be lost. The reckless said, that it would be two or three 
 days before the ice broke up ; the timid, that it would be on 
 the morrow ; the cautious, that it was uncertain, and that not 
 an hour ought to be lost. Some said, that the ice had lain so 
 long, it was rotten, and would be torn up by the next tide ; 
 others contended that as it was so thick it would be the work of 
 days to rend it asunder ; a few, and those the most experienced, 
 declared that they could see it rising ev.ery hour, and that the 
 loud reports which almost every moment took place, convinced 
 them, that should the night-tide be a strong one, the vast mass 
 would be torn up, and rent asunder by the next morning. 
 These were laughed at for their caution a gloom seemed to 
 hang over all the inhabitants, and many, whose interests were 
 vested in the shipping, never went to bed that night. 
 
 Even amongst us boys, many a consultation had taken 
 place, and several of us had agreed, that after we were sent to 
 bed, we would dress ourselves, and steal out in the night ; for 
 we had heard rumours that the ice had broken up as far as 
 Kidby, that by the next tide it had extended to Ferry ; and we 
 knew that when once it had reached Stockworth, and turned 
 the arm of the river at Marton- Flats, it would be upon us in 
 an hour for we had listened attentively to the remarks of 
 several old, experienced Greenland whalers, and had heard 
 them say, that the blocks of ice which the tide brought for- 
 ward, would be driven under the vast extensive sheets which 
 yet extended up to the bridge ; and when this was once the 
 case, the whole frozen line, that stretched along the town-side, 
 would burst and break up with a report, loud as the firing of 
 many cannons. Night came, and with it, the tide : the moon 
 threw a dim kind of cloudy light over the scene, and as we 
 
 46
 
 FROST BREAKING UP. 
 
 listened, we could hear the ice breaking with a loud, sullen 
 roar, a mile or two away ; nearer and nearer the deep 
 sound came those who had gone to sleep on shore were 
 aroused, and hurried off to take charge of the different vessels 
 to which they belonged; at intervals, between each thundering 
 crash of the ice, we heard the hum of human voices on 
 
 . - : 
 
 &**=- 
 
 board the ships ; lanterns were 
 hoisted into the rigging, lights 
 blazed and moved along the 
 shore, and many a sailor who 
 had been summoned had not 
 yet arrived at his post, when one 
 long, loud, continued crash was 
 heard, which told that it was the 
 
 ICE BREAKING UP IN THE RIVER.
 
 WINTER. 
 
 It was unlike thunder, unlike the quick successive filing of 
 cannon, it was as if the earth had split asunder and went on, 
 opening and filling up with masses of fallen ruins, amid the 
 hissing, and surging, and boiling of the troubled waters which 
 it swallowed in its course ; for so did the waves roar and heave 
 up as they broke through the ice, so did the sheets of ice crash 
 and grind together as they were tossed upon each other, so were 
 the ships torn from their moorings by the overwhelming torrent, 
 and the huge frozen blocks that came thundering against their 
 sides, so were the masses of water, and ice, and shipping, 
 whirled onward, to where the heavy stone bridge threw its dark 
 shadowy arches over the turmoil, and there they became all 
 locked together, ships, boats, sheets of thick ice, so large that 
 they could not pass through the arches the vessels blocked up 
 the ice, and the ice the ships, until another mass came thunder- 
 ing on ; then masts were snapped asunder like carrots, and vessels 
 went on driving through, and were hurried along far below the 
 bridge, and boats were sunk, and the foundations of the bridge 
 shaken, and over all came the deepening and unceasing roar 
 which could be heard four or five miles away ; and farmers 
 came galloping up on horseback from the neighbouring villages 
 to witness the scene, for never before did such confusion reign 
 over that river, and along the shore, and beside the town, as 
 was witnessed on that winter night, when the ice broke up in 
 the river Trent. Nor did the interest end here ; for two or 
 three days after we used to find amusement and excitement 
 enough in watching the large blocks of ice as they came floating 
 one after another down the river, for many of these had been 
 thrown upon the shore, and washed off again by the tide 
 some of them were covered with snow, and were broken up 
 into such fantastic shapes, that as they came floating along 
 we traced in them resemblances to Polar bears, and seals, and 
 white whales, and sharks, and dolphins, and porpoises, and 
 many another monster of the great deep, which we had never
 
 CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 
 
 beheld, and so gave to them forms fashioned from the imagina- 
 tion of the moment. 
 
 But the greatest charm that Winter brought with it was 
 the Christmas holidays. The knowledge that, for six weeks, 
 we should be freed from the trammels of school, neither pes- 
 tered with grammar, history, geography, round nor text hand 
 this was indeed something like a pleasure to look forward 
 to ; to know that we should revel among all kinds of games, 
 and merry-makings ; and, in place of the formal school diet, 
 feed on mince-pies, and sausages, and spareribs, and turkeys, 
 and roast geese, and such ponderous plum-puddings as would 
 make the old family-cook red in the face only to carry them 
 out of the kitchen into the parlour. Oh! didn't we lick 
 our lips, and rub our hands, and run from one to another, and 
 leap and jump, and shout, through very delight, when the day 
 arrived in which we broke up for Christmas holidays ! What 
 a packing up of boxes was there ! what a rushing up stairs, 
 and peeping out of chamber- windows, to see if John had come 
 with the light cart, or the pony ; or whether the old coachman, 
 who had orders to call, would have room enough on the stage- 
 coach ; and what time we should get home ; and who would 
 be waiting to receive us ; and at the corner of what lane, or 
 wood, or hill-top, we should first catch a glimpse of the smok- 
 ing chimneys, and sloping roof, of our own happy home ' 
 These were, indeed, pleasures to anticipate, and enjoyed all 
 the more because they had yet to come ; and we often think 
 now, that the realization scarcely afforded more delight, than 
 the anticipation of when they would come. Then, what visions 
 were recalled of the feasting, and merriment, which was soon 
 to be held throughout the whole country, as we sat mounted 
 on the top of the old stage coach, half buried amid piles of 
 richly-coloured pheasants, and large, long-eared hares, and great 
 black turkeys, that hung dangling by the neck and by the 
 heels, all round the coach; and large, fat, white geese, thf.t 
 
 D 2 51
 
 WINTER. 
 
 were doomed to be roasted before great comfortable fires ; and 
 hampers in which immense fish were curled up, ready to be 
 put into the pot, the instant they reached their place of desti- 
 nation ! Why, it almost seemed as if Christmas himself had 
 come out to meet us, and to show us all the good things which 
 were provided, to make merry withal, during this happy season 
 of the year. When home was once reached, then there were 
 a hundred inquiries to make : the kitchen had become such a 
 size ; and the puppy had grown into such a fine dog ; and there 
 was such an alteration in this; and surely something must 
 have been done at that ; the other also was new, and the old 
 one must have been removed ; such a playmate, too, was miss- 
 ing ; and there were fresh faces at the door of an old, familiar 
 cottage ; and we must know the why, and the where, and the 
 wherefore, about all these matters ; so that the whole of the first 
 day was spent in inquiries ; for we found a subject of interest 
 in every trifle connected with home. Then, what pleasure it 
 afforded us to see the preparations which were made for keep- 
 ing Christmas ! the armfuls of holly, and ivy, and mistletoe, 
 which men, women, and boys went by with, as they returned 
 from the woods ! But the greatest of all delights was to assist 
 in decorating our own house with these evergreens ; to get 
 upon a chair, and stick a sprig of holly here, and a sprig of 
 ivy there, around the pictures, and around the mirror, and 
 above the book-case ; over the door, and over the mantel- 
 piece; and around the portrait of some old ancestor, whose 
 smile had lighted up many a merry Christmas in former days. 
 Pleasant was it also to be awakened by the Waits in the 
 night; to hear the music, first faint and afar off, at the 
 corner of some distant cottage to listen, for a few moments, 
 until all again was still, and once more be startled with the 
 sound under our very window; on Christmas morning, long 
 before it was light, to listen to some old, simple carol, tell- 
 ing us how our Saviour was born in a lowly stable in Beth-
 
 THE WAITS. 
 
 lehem, and that angels first communicated the tidings to the 
 shepherds, who tended their flocks in the field. Or while 
 the cock crowed from some distant farm, to recall the beautiful 
 lines of Shakspere, where he says, 
 
 " Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes, 
 Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 
 This bird of dawning singeth all night long." 
 
 Then to hear the church-bells throwing their silvery music upon 
 the frozen air, and proclaiming to the hill and valleys, far around, 
 that the dawn would soon break, and 
 usher in the day which brought peace, 
 good-will, and glad tidings to the 
 children of men. And if we drew aside 
 the window-blind, we could see the 
 
 VILLAGE WAITS
 
 WINTER. 
 
 as they stood before the old parsonage-house, chanting the 
 Christmas carol to some simple tune, which was composed 
 above a hundred years ago. Then came the light which 
 brought in the glad day its in-door cheerfulness enhanced all 
 the more if the ground was sprinkled over with snow, and a 
 white rime hung upon the cottage-roofs, and trees, and hedges : 
 for then, high up into the clear bracing air, we could see the 
 blue, cheerful smoke ascend, and picture to ourselves the 
 many good things which were already preparing, to celebrate 
 the ancient feast of Christmas ; reminding us of a very old 
 Christmas song, which says, 
 
 " Observe how the chimneys 
 
 Do smoke all about ; 
 The cooks are providing 
 
 For dinner, no doubt." 
 
 And also further telling us what dainties were brought to 
 table, about two hundred years ago, enumerating amongst 
 
 " the good cheer, 
 
 Minced-pies and plum-porridge ; 
 
 Good ale and strong beer ; 
 "With pig, goose, and capon, 
 
 The best that may be." 
 
 For plum-porridge is oftener mentioned in these ancient bal- 
 lads than plum-pudding, and a roast goose seems but rarely to 
 have been wanting at an old-fashioned Christmas dinner. But, 
 above all things, was a boar's head, garnished with bays and 
 rosemary, preferred ; and this was brought to table accompanied 
 by a song, beginning with 
 
 " The boar's head in hand bear I, 
 Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary; 
 And I pray you, my masters, be merry." 
 
 It is pleasant to find, that while feasting and merriment made 
 glad the old halls and feudal castles, the poor were also par- 
 takers of the good things : another ancient carol tells us that 
 
 54
 
 CHRISTMAS CHARITY. 
 
 " The poor shall not want, but have for relief, 
 Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced-pies, and roast-beef." 
 
 Then, the great yule-log sent its cheerful blaze all over the 
 ample hearth ; gilding the ceiling with its cheerful blaze, for 
 there were fireplaces, in those days, capable of containing the 
 root of a tree, which it would require the strength of two men 
 to place upon the andirons ; and, in the centre of the large 
 room, there hung the mistletoe-bough, under which all who 
 were caught were compelled to pay the same forfeit: and rare 
 fun was there, when the grave old grandmother was caught 
 as she passed under the mistletoe ; and honest-hearted grandad 
 jumped up to give the dear old lady a kiss. Ah ! there was 
 a deal of hearty humour in those days,, although the man- 
 ners of our forefathers were much ruder than those of our 
 own time. 
 
 It will give a kindhearted boy pleasure to know, that, 
 even in workhouses and prisons, the poor who are confined 
 there, are not forgotten on Christmas-day; but that, for once 
 in the year, they have generally a good dinner provided, 
 which, no doubt, causes them to talk about it long before 
 the joyous day arrives. Still there are many poor families 
 who are unable to procure any thing beyond their hard daily 
 fare at this inclement season ; and to such as these, if they 
 are really deserving people, no warm-hearted lad would, I am 
 sure, begrudge to give a good share of his best Christmas-box; 
 and the thought would often bring him comfort in after-days, 
 when he remembered how slight a sacrifice on his part was 
 the means of contributing to the happiness of some poor 
 family at Christmas. Oh ! it gives such a zest to the stuffirg 
 of the goose ; it beats all the sauce that was ever poured over 
 the richest plum-pudding. You recall it, and have no fear of 
 the mince-pies choking you, although you swallow them whole. 
 You sit down and think of it, and the comfortable terms on 
 which you feel with yourself, gives a double enjoyment to the 
 
 55
 
 WINTER. 
 
 CHRISTMAS DINNER. 
 
 I know but few pleasanter pictures to contemplate, than 
 to look upon a happy family assembled together at Christ- 
 mas ; especially when amongst the group may be numbered 
 uncles, and aunts, and cousins, who live a long way off, and 
 when worthy old grandfathers and grandmothers are still alive 
 to honour the festive scene with their presence. It is such a 
 gathering together of all household affections, drawing closer 
 the ties which unite us to one another; and we often recall 
 the happy picture, when we hear of the well or ill doing of 
 some one, in after years, whom we were often wont to meet 
 at the festive board of Christmas. The image of some fair 
 cousin, whose blue eyes and laughing face lit up with merri- 
 ment, as she joined in the game of Romps, Blindman's-buff, 
 or Forfeits, and who was the very life and soul of that Christ-
 
 MERRY CHRISTMAS. 
 
 mas party, comes upon the heart with a more tender appeal, 
 when we hear of her unfortunate marriage, her poverty, and 
 her suffering ; and the warm soul of the boy once more rises 
 within the thoughtful man, for the very remembrance of past 
 times, and her present sufferings, make her all the dearer to 
 him. The happiness which wealth brings, exists not alone 
 in the comfort it throws around ourselves, but in the good 
 it enables us to do for others, and the pleasure it affords us 
 to know that they were really deserving of our assistance. 
 Extravagance and laziness it is a folly to assist ; but poverty, 
 and misfortune, and old age, and sickness have a sacred claim 
 to our help. It is too true, that generous natures, and noble 
 hearts, are often put upon ; but better thus than to be suspicious, 
 and selfish, and mean ; better relieve even an impostor, now 
 and then, than withhold from all, because a few are not what 
 they appear : for ever bear in mind, that a good deed is still 
 the same, though misapplied, or wasted, by the receiver; and 
 that God causes the " rain to fall upon the just and the 
 unjust," and the same sun to shine upon the evil as upon 
 the good ; and that, whilst He bears with all our infirmities, 
 we ought to leave the sin of ingratitude for Him to punish. 
 And now, like a solemn " Grace before Meat," I have ended, 
 and have no wish to keep you serious a moment longer ; but, 
 adapting the poetry of Milton's "L' Allegro" to the occasion, 
 am ready to exclaim, "Welcome Christmas !" 
 
 " and bring with thee, 
 Jest and youthful jollity, 
 Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, 
 Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter, holding both his sides." 
 
 Let us leave our elders to gossip about old times, beside 
 the fire; what have we to do with care, who are so young? 
 We have made so hearty a dinner, that, for our own eating, 
 
 57
 
 \VINTEB. 
 
 we would not now give sixpence for all the mince-pies, and 
 plum-puddings, and roast geese in the universe. What shall 
 we do? They have lighted a fire in the large old parlour, 
 purposely for us. What game shall we play at ? Shall it be a 
 
 SNAPDRAGON, 
 
 dance, or turn-trencher, or hlindman's-buff, or hunt the slipper ? 
 It must be something in which the girls can join us ; for, 
 on such an occasion as this, we must be gallant enough 
 to abandon the thought of all out-door amusements for their 
 sakes. What will create the most laughter? Shall it be 
 turn-trencher ? Well, then, run and fetch up a large wooden 
 trencher. Now, young gentlemen and ladies, sit down, 
 and take your places in the chairs around the room. It is 
 my first call. Remember, I can call whom I like, and that 
 after I have once set the trencher spinning in the middle 
 of the room, whoever I name, must jump up and catch the 
 
 58
 
 CHRISTMAS GAMES. 
 
 trencher before it falls, or else pay the forfeit. Now then, 
 Miss Smith. Hurrah! it is down! Miss Manner shall be 
 our queen, and name the forfeit she is to pay. Her necklace, 
 and nothing less, will we take, not any money from the 
 young ladies. It is her call next. Master Williamson ! He, 
 also, has missed it, and his money is up stairs in his box. 
 Well, take his silver pencil-case. Only three as yet have 
 caught up the trencher whilst it was spinning, and the forfeits 
 nearly fill Miss Manner's work-basket. All the money shall 
 be spent in something to-morrow, or given to the clergyman, 
 if you like, he knows plenty of poor creatures who will be 
 thankful for it. " How shall that knife be redeemed? " Our 
 Queen of Forfeits must answer: "He must kiss the chair- 
 back through the tongs. " Seize him, boys ! if he refuses ; he 
 is a rebel who would disobey our queen. Well, then, he is to 
 pay a shilling instead. " This silver pen-holder ; what must 
 he do to redeem it?" "Look at the lamp, and never once 
 wink his eyes, for five minutes." "He has lost! he has 
 lost !" and our queen will only let him off by paying. John 
 England has forfeited his musical-box, what says our queen is 
 the price of its redemption? "He must go outside, and 
 whistle, 'God save the Queen!' through the keyhole; and 
 never once laugh all the time." It's no use; he cannot do 
 it : it is first a whistle, and then a laugh. He, also, must 
 compound with her majesty. 
 
 " Now, I can tell your thoughts, no matter what you may 
 think, if you will but whisper it to George Herbert, so that no 
 one saving himself shall hear you. I will tell you what you 
 thought of, or what you wished for." " But how?" " Why, he 
 shall name twenty things, if you choose ; and I will tell you, out 
 of the number, the very thing you wished for, if it be ever so 
 ridiculous." " Well, we '11 try." " You thought, ' How funny 
 Master Anderson's face would look, if his nose were a foot long.' 
 No, Miss, it's no use hanging down your head. Have I not 
 
 59
 
 WINTER. 
 
 guessed aright, Master Herbert? And your wishes, well 
 then, you wished 'Uncle John might buy you a rosewood 
 work-box.' " And, now, to show you how simple and easy it 
 is to tell both your thoughts and wishes, I must first inform 
 you, that you must have an understanding with the person 
 to whom the secret is whispered, and that, although he may 
 first name a dozen things, which were not told to him, yet, 
 when he mentions the name of either a bird, a fish, or a 
 quadruped, whichever may have been agreed upon between 
 us, what you wished for, or thought, will be the next question 
 he will put. Thus, if you remember, before Master Herbert 
 asked me about the rosewood work-box, he named a black- 
 and white spaniel. But, were I to enumerate all the games 
 we played during the Christmas Holidays, they would occupy 
 half-a-dozen pages, or more, which I must dedicate to matters 
 of greater interest. The morris-dancers, boxing-day, the 
 yule-log, Christmas candles, the wassail-bowl, and many old 
 customs which are now all but obsolete, would interest you 
 very little, were I to describe them ; and I shall occupy your 
 time much better by making you acquainted with the human 
 objects which are abroad during the Winter season. 
 
 And first I must draw your attention to the single figures 
 and groups which we see wandering along the highways and 
 byways ; some journeying onward from one town to another ; 
 others turning down winding lanes, or threading their way 
 across posted footpaths each having some object in view, 
 some purpose to accomplish : it may be a matter of business, of 
 pleasure, or of pain. One is perhaps hurrying along to drive 
 a bargain ; another in search of employment ; a third to visit 
 a sick relative ; another, with slow and reluctant strides, a 
 bearer of the tidings of death. Observe that boy, with his 
 hands in his pockets, his face turned towards the ground 
 whenever he passes any body : he is a runaway apprentice, 
 without money, and not possessing a sufficient knowledge of
 
 WAYSIDE WANDERERS. 
 
 business to obtain his living what will he do? For a few days 
 he will wander about, weary and hungry, having neither end nor 
 aim in view, but picking up a crust here and there, wherever 
 he can, and sleeping, at night, hi some outhouse in the field, or 
 beside some haystack, cold as the season is. His poor mother, 
 with aching heart, will shut up her little cottage, and set out 
 in quest of him, wandering, perchance, many a mile before she 
 can gather any tidings of the truant. True, he had a harsh 
 master ; was up early and went to bed late, but rarely had a 
 holiday ; endured many privations. Yet, when the worst was 
 over ; when two years of his apprenticeship had already ex- 
 pired ; when he was better able to cope with difficulties and 
 stand up in his own defence, was beginning to obtain an in- 
 sight into his business, and every day becoming more useful, 
 like a coward, he sank under his difficulties, and ran away. 
 Picture him to yourself when he returns, sad and sorrowful for 
 what he has done. He steals homeward in the twilight : he 
 dare not face his master. He sees his mother's house shut 
 up ; and ravenously devours the crust of bread and cheese 
 which a kind neighbour gives to him. He finds that his mother 
 is gone to his aunt's, a distance of more than ten miles ; and 
 his eyes fill with tears when he thinks how she has worked for 
 him since his father's death, what a kind mother she has ever 
 been to him, and what must her feelings be, when, after so 
 long and weary a journey, she finds he is not there ; and he 
 resolves within himself that he will never again run away, nor, 
 whilst he lives, wilfully cause her a moment's pain. The 
 meeting with his mother I will not attempt to portray : tears 
 will flow plentifully on both sides; and both she and his master 
 will pardon him. 
 
 Observe that old woman, in the red cloak and gipsy- 
 bonnet, with a staff in her hand, the horned head of which is 
 polished bright through years of long handling. She was 
 never, in the whole course of her life, which now numbers
 
 wnrnot. 
 
 above threescore winters, beyond ten miles from the village in 
 which she was born : and, now, hers is a mournful errand ; for 
 she is going to see her son, who is a prisoner in the county 
 gaol. Although, ever since he was a boy, he has been nothing 
 but a source of trouble to her still, her heart clings to him, 
 deep as he has plunged that heart into wretchedness, and 
 misery. From garden-robbing and poaching, from drunkenness 
 and gaming, he got, at last, to sheep-stealing; and nothing 
 now will save him from transportation. Poor old woman ! she 
 sighs heavily when she thinks of the stain he has thrown upon 
 the fair name of the family. You can see, by her feeble step 
 and sunken eye, that she will not long outlive the disgi'ace he 
 has brought upon her. Poor woman ! she takes no heed of 
 the cold : sorrow has benumbed all other feelings. 
 
 Notice that merry pedler, who trudges along, whistling as 
 he walks, and carrying his heavy basket upon his back. For 
 miles around the countiy is he known : his face is familiar to 
 almost every man, woman, and child. He deals in toys, and 
 combs, and spoons, and graters ; sells thimbles, and thread, 
 and tape, and needles, and pins ; has a large assortment of 
 pocket-knives, whLh will do any thing but cut ; besides a stock 
 of scissors and snuffers, from which the rivets are always com- 
 ing out after they have been used two or three times ; and, 
 although he calls himself " Cheap John," and his customers 
 well know that his wares are too dear, even at a gift, still they 
 deal with him : for, they say, he must have a living somehow 
 or other. And then, he has always got some merry tale to tell 
 them. But listen to him, and observe how he is making that 
 old woman laugh who stands within the cottage-doorway ; for 
 he is telling her a funny story about old Lindsey, the calico- 
 merchant, his aunt, and his call-pipe. <; For you must know," 
 says he, " that old Lindsey 's aunt, who is very rich, came last 
 week to visit him; and that, as he expects to come into all 
 her money when she dies, why, of course, he did every thing 
 
 62
 
 THE MEKKY PEDLER. 
 
 he could to amuse and entertain her ; and, among other things, 
 he thought that it would be letting her see how very indus- 
 trious he was, if he took her to look over his warehouse. Well, 
 the aunt went very willingly ; and greatly was she astonished 
 to see the bales of calico, and the long rows of shelves, and the 
 great counters, that went stretching, I can't tell you how far. 
 But what astonished her most, was a great, long tin-pipe, that 
 ran up beside the wall, and went through the floor into the 
 room above, and into the next room beyond, I can't tell you 
 how high. This puzzled the old aunt strangely, and she 
 could make neither head nor tail of it. After looking at it for 
 some time she at length said, ' And pray, nephew, what's this 
 for'?' ' This, aunt,' said he, rubbing his hands, and looking 
 as fussy as a maggot that has climbed out at the top of a Stilton 
 cheese, ' this, aunt, is my call-pipe, and very useful indeed it 
 is ; for, you see, if I want to ask any of my men a question, or 
 to call them down, or to go an errand, instead of having to 
 send a message up stairs, or go running 'all the way myself, I 
 have only to apply my mouth to the bottom of the call-pipe, 
 and then whoever I want answers me. You shall see you shall 
 see ; I will call to Mr. Wigglestone ; ' and, putting his mouth 
 to the pipe, he called out, ' Mr. Wigglestone, come down ; I 
 want you.' ' Now, aunt,' said he, ' if you apply your ear to the 
 end of the tube, Mr. Wigglestone will answer me.' And Mr. 
 Wigglestone did answer him ; for he thought it was the mis- 
 chievous errand-boy who hud called, and whose voice was not 
 unlike his master's, and who was constantly shouting up the 
 call-pipe to the men ; and when they came down, hiding him- 
 self, in any hole or corner, out of sight. Mr. Wigglestone, 
 thinking that the errand-boy was at his old tricks, hollaed as 
 loud as he could into the ear of the aunt, who was attentively 
 awaiting the answer, ' I'll Mr. Wigglestone you, when I come 
 down, that I will; I'll break every bone in your body.' I 
 leave you to guess the old aunt's astonishment ; she said Lind
 
 WINTER. 
 
 sey had done it on purpose to insult her. So poor Wigglestone 
 got turned away, as the master thought the language was ad- 
 dressed to him, and Lindsey is likely to lose the fortune he 
 expected his aunt to leave him ; and all this through the call- 
 pipe." A right merry fellow is that hardy pedler, and cares 
 no more for the frost than a dormouse, when it is wrapped up 
 warm and comfortable in its winter's sleep. 
 
 See those two fellows, in canvass trowsers, striped shirts, 
 and straw hats, striding along, and joking. Ten to one they 
 never sailed upon the ocean in their lives ; and yet, at the first 
 village they come to, with gruff voices, not unlike the roaring 
 of the sea, they will begin to bawl out lustily some stormy 
 sea-song, about Jervis, or Duncan, or Howe, or Nelson; and, 
 when they have filled their pockets with halfpence, go to the 
 tap of the village alehouse, and there sit, and drink, and 
 smoke, and laugh, while they chat over their roguery, and 
 rejoice that they have taken in the simple country people by 
 passing for sailors. 
 
 That old man plodding along, with his arms folded; is 
 driven about, like a shuttlecock, from one parish to another all 
 refusing to relieve him, because he cannot properly prove to 
 which one he belongs. Here he was born, and there he was 
 married, and further on he lived for a number of years ; and, 
 in the village he has just left, he last rented a house. Poor 
 old man ! he is literally driven from pillar to post ; from one 
 overseer to-day, to another to morrow. Pity, that one who has 
 no other fault than that of being poor, which is a misfortune 
 he cannot help, should thus be left, with his grey hairs, to 
 wander, " homeless, amid a thousand homes! " 
 
 Many animals, as well as insects, pass the whole of the 
 time during the cold winter months in a torpid state, from 
 which they are only aroused by the approach of the warm days 
 of spring, when the earth furnishes them once more with 
 abundance of food. Others, like the 
 
 64
 
 THE DORMOUSE. 
 
 DORMOUSE, 
 
 lay up a store of provision before they retire to their winter 
 nests, when, should they chance to he aroused by the mildness 
 of the weather before spring arrives, they then devour a por- 
 tion of their food, and again sink into a state of unconscious 
 slumber. You would be delighted, could you but see the 
 little dormouse asleep in its winter's nest ; there it lies, like 
 a ball tied round with a piece of string, for so does its tail 
 curl over its head and around its back, as if it had tied 
 itself together before it went to sleep, lest it should come 
 undone, and so awaken. You would also be amused to see it 
 when it is awake, and sits up eating, taking its food in its 
 hands (for so I must call its fore-feet), like the squirrel, 
 and munching away at hips and haws, or a fallen acorn, or 
 whatever it can find at the foot of the trees, or below the 
 hedgerows, where it gets as fat as a little pig, before it creeps 
 into its warm nest, then shuts up its large black eyes, and 
 bids the world "Goodnight!" until warmer days draw near. 
 It loves silent and solitary places, far away from the abodes 
 of men, where it leads a quiet, inoffensive life, and brings up 
 its little family of blind dormice, and attends upon them 
 
 65
 
 WINTER. 
 
 until they can see, and provide for themselves; then leaves 
 them to play in summer, and get fat in autumn, and sleep 
 soundly throughout the cold winter, without a care ; just as 
 their grandfathers and grandmothers did before them, for many 
 a past generation. 
 
 Another animal which lays up a store of food for winter, 
 is the Long-tailed Field-mouse. You never saw such a larder 
 as these little rascals keep : seeds of every description that 
 they can get hold of; corn enough, if ground, to make a little 
 pudding; and nuts, real brown-shellers, such as you would 
 like to sit and crack after dinner ; with no end of acorns : 
 and these they conceal in their nest underground, or beneath 
 the roots of trees ; and when they have nothing else to eat, 
 they fall to and devour one another ; and rare fighting there is 
 between them sometimes, for if one long-tailed field-mouse 
 chances to be a little less, or a little weaker, than the other, 
 he knows it is no use sitting down and arguing with the 
 stronger one, who has made up his mind to dine off him, so 
 up he jumps and fights it out; and it sometimes happens 
 that the little one has the best of it, and then the larger 
 one is glad enough to run into any hole or comer, and go 
 without his dinner for that day. 
 
 Hogs, which feed in the forest, as I have before told you 
 in Autumn, sometimes chance to stumble upon the hoard 
 which the field-mice have concealed, and then they grunt, and 
 root, and champ away, much to the dissatisfaction of the long- 
 tailed little gentleman, who sits huddled up in the dark corner, 
 looking on, and saying to himself, no doubt, " I wish it may 
 choke you, you great, grunting brute, that I do. There go my 
 poor acorns, a dozen at a mouthful ; twelve long journeys had 
 I to the foot of the old oak, where I picked them up, such a 
 hard day's work, that I could scarcely get a wink of sleep at 
 night, my bones ached so ; and now that great glutton gobbles 
 them all up at a mouthful, and thinks nothing about it! 
 
 66
 
 LONG-TAILED FIELD MOUSE. 
 
 Whatever I shall live on in winter, I don't know! There 
 goes my corn, too ! which I brought, by an ear at. a time, 
 all the way from the field on the other side of the forest, 
 and which I was often forced to rest with two or three 
 times before I reached home, and then I sometimes had to 
 lay one down, while I fought with a field-mouse who had got a 
 longer tail than myself, and who tried to take it away from 
 me, under pretence of helping me to carry it home, which I 
 knew well enough meant his own nest; and after all this 
 fighting, and slaving, and carrying heavy loads from sunrise 
 to sunset, packing it up so snugly together, and even picking 
 up every loose grain that fell out, here comes a pair of great 
 grunting pork chaps, which I hope some day to see salted and 
 dried, and eaten up, just as he is devouring my winter stock. 
 Never mind, Mr. Pig, it 's winter now ; but, perhaps, by next 
 harvest time I shall creep into some reaper's basket, and have 
 a taste of you, when he brings a part of you, nicely cured and 
 cooked, and laid lovingly between two slices of bread. 1 11 be 
 one with you, then, old fellow! that I will, if I'm only spared." 
 And so he creeps out scarcely knowing whether he should 
 make his mind up to beg, borrow, or steal half-muttering to 
 himself, as he hops across to visit some neighbour, for a break- 
 fast, " I declare such infamous treatment is enough to make 
 one dishonest, and never be industrious again ! " 
 
 " Bat, bat, come under my hat! " 
 
 was one of our boyish cries, as, with hat in hand, we tried to 
 capture the little animal, when it flitted to and fro, in the 
 twilight, on its leathern wings, in pursuit of insects, some- 
 times flying so low as to come within a yard or two of the 
 ground. In those days we knew nothing of its curious habits, 
 nor how it concealed itself in dark places, and slept away the 
 winter. We looked upon it as something that was half bird, 
 and half mouse unconscious, then, that it was a quadruped, 
 
 x 2 67
 
 WINTER. 
 
 and brought forth its young alive ; and numbers of boys, 
 unless they chance to be well read in natural history, will 
 be as much surprised at the facts I am about to narrate, as 
 I myself was when I first became acquainted with them. 
 Just fancy a hairy and leathern-winged 
 
 BAT SLEEPING 
 
 for three or four months during the winter, when he neither 
 troubles himself about bed nor blanket, but, flying into the 
 first dark cave he can reach, or under the shelter of some 
 old ruin, beneath the roof of a church, within the hollow 
 of a tree, or in the most secluded and darkest part of the 
 woods, he just turns in, hangs himself up by his heels, or 
 hinder-claws, and, with his head downwards, sleeps much 
 more comfortably than if he was tucked in, in the best feather 
 bed. Another comes, and sticks his claws in the wall, or 
 wood, an inch or so above him, and covers up his companion, 
 like a blanket; and thus they frequently hang, dozens to- 
 es
 
 BATS. 
 
 gether, keeping one another warm until the return of spring. 
 Although I have called the organs, by which the bat is enabled 
 to support itself in the air, wings ; yet so differently con- 
 structed are they from those of a bird, that naturalists have 
 compared the skin, or membrane by which it is enabled to 
 fly, to the silk stretched upon the ribs of an umbrella*; for to, 
 such may the fingers which open and close, and support this 
 skin or wing, be compared, and which they can fold or unfold 
 at pleasure. The arm, or centre of the wing, for such it 
 appears when in the act of flight, is furnished with a sharp, 
 hooked nail, called by naturalists the thumb, which not only 
 is of great assistance to them while walking upon the ground, 
 but also, if the surface is rugged, enables them to climb up 
 the most perpendicular heights ; for, wherever they can once fix 
 this hooked nail, there they have at once a firm and secure 
 hold. But, of all walkers, the bats are the most ungainly; 
 the motions of an old man, with a dozen corns upon his 
 feet, would be graceful, compared to theirs: first, the arm is 
 extended, and the hook planted firmly upon the ground, 
 then the body is moved forward by means of the hinder foot, 
 which is placed under it, as if it were a lever, and it is only 
 by giving itself a purchase now and then, that it is able to 
 get along ; it is first a hook, then a lever, then another hook, 
 as if a lame man, instead of using his crutches, knelt down, 
 and, resting upon his thighs, tried to lever himself along 
 which he would not be able to do ; yet, such an attitude is 
 the nearest that approaches the motion of the bat, though, 
 I fear, I cannot so express my meaning as to make it clearly 
 understood. You must get a bat the first opportunity you 
 have, if you want to see a new motion, which can neither 
 be called walking, running, hopping, crawling, nor jumping, 
 and yet, in some measure, resembles all these movements; 
 
 For many of these facts I am indebted to " Bell's History of 
 British Quadrupeds." Edit 1837. 
 
 M
 
 WINTER. 
 
 but you must look at the bat, and see how it manages to lift 
 itself along. I well remember, when boys, it was our belief 
 that if the bat once settled upon the ground, it could not 
 rise again ; that if the chamber window was left open it 
 would come in, and suck our blood in the night, while we 
 were asleep, and do its work so gently as never once to 
 awaken us during the operation : but all such nonsense as this 
 has long since been exploded, and a more innocent, harmless, 
 and amusing little animal than the bat does not exist in 
 our climate; for it may be rendered so tame as to eat out 
 of the hand, fly about the room, and even take its food 
 from your lips. And, oh! how it would amuse you to see 
 a bat clean itself! thrusting its little hairy head, like a 
 brush, underneath its leathern jacket, and rooting out every 
 particle of dirt and dust from every hole and corner, with 
 its snout, just as a cleanly servant-maid would do with a 
 brush to get out the particles of dust from the angles of a 
 room ; and sometimes it will part the hair down the middle 
 of its back, and make itself quite smart. The bat is supposed 
 never to have more than a single young one at a time, and 
 this she wraps up in the lower part of the membrane, or 
 hinder portion of the wing, covering it up as with a cloak, 
 and carrying it about with her. When kept tame, they will 
 feed upon raw meat ; and it frequently finds its way into the 
 larder, where, fastening itself upon the whole joint, it some- 
 times makes a hearty meal, without asking the owner's per- 
 mission. But what think you to most of the bats having 
 four ears, two of which seem for use, and two for oniament; 
 or, perhaps, to keep the cold out of its larger ones, instead 
 of stuffing in wool : indeed, I cannot tell you for what purpose 
 this second pair of ears is ordained, neither have I met with 
 any work on the natural history of the bat which has thrown 
 any light upon the use of the tragus, or inner ears. You 
 will observe this tragus in the engraving of the 
 
 70
 
 LONG-EARED BAT. 
 
 LONG-EARED BAT; 
 
 but, unless you were to see the animal yourself alive, you 
 could form no idea into what beautiful forms it can throw 
 those long ears : neither your horn-lopped, half-lopped, oar- 
 lopped, nor perfect-lopped rabbits, are to be named beside 
 this bat, for the elegant shapes into which it will curve its 
 ears, But the most singular thing is, that these long and 
 beautiful ears are folded under its arms or wings, when it 
 is asleep ; it is then that the tragus, or shorter ears, only are 
 visible : and were you to see it in its torpid state, hanging by 
 the heels, its long ears folded, and its shorter ones only 
 dangling down, you would scarcely believe it was the same 
 animal which you had before seen. Then there is another 
 species, called the Horse-shoe Bat, which is entirely devoid 
 of these lesser ears, and the construction of whose nasal 
 organs I could not make you comprehend ; for such a com- 
 plication of noses (and I know not by what other name to 
 call them), were surely never planted upon any face saving 
 that of the horse-shoe bat's. There are about twelve different 
 species of bats, natives of this country, and amongst them are 
 the notch-eared, and the long-eared, and the lesser long- 
 eared, the horse-shoe, and the mouse-coloured, and the parti 
 
 71
 
 WINTER. 
 
 coloured, together -with the reddish grey, and the pigmy, and 
 the whiskered, and one or two others, with such names as you 
 would scarcely be ahle to pronounce. But the 
 
 COMMON BAT, OR FLITTER-MOTJSE, 
 
 you all of you must have seen ; for where is there a town or 
 village without it in England; and what boy has not stood and 
 watched it, as it flitted up and down the street, in the dim, grey, 
 evening twilight, in the pursuit of insects ; or seen it peep 
 from under the eaves of the houses ; its little head every now 
 and then visible, like a mouse peering from its hole, until, 
 watching for a favourable opportunity, out it would rush, and 
 seeming to be here, and there, and every where, in a few mo- 
 ments, while hunting for its pi-ey ; feeling, no doubt, as happy 
 and contented as the merriest boy that is out playing in the 
 street. 
 
 And now I will tell you a true tale about a poor country 
 man who once came to Retford fair to buy a cow, and what 
 kind of one he got for his money. He chanced to be smoking 
 his pipe at an alehouse, after the fair was over for the day ; and 
 whilst there, he began to deplore his ill luck in not having 
 been able to meet with a cow that suited him. " What sort of 
 a cow is it you want?" said Dicky Vamey, who was one of the 
 wittiest tailors that ever sat cross-legged upon a shopboard. 
 
 72
 
 THE BED AND WHITE COW. 
 
 " Why, my old dame at home would like a red and white cow, 
 not over large," answered the countryman. "A red and white 
 cow," said Dicky, as if musing for a moment; then turning to 
 one of his old cronies, he said, " Don't you think that little 
 thing of mine, which I showed you the last time you took tea at 
 our house, would suit him ? " " I should say it would he the 
 very thing," replied Dicky's companion, who had seen the cow. 
 " But does it yield milk pretty freely?" inquired the countryman ; 
 " for my old dame bade me be very particular about buying one 
 that had a good supply of milk." "Milk!" echoed Dicky, 
 " hey, that it does ; just touch it, and there's a cupful at once ! 
 you never saw such an easy cow to milk." "And is it quiet, 
 and not a kicker," asked he. " Quiet as a lamb," answered 
 Dicky ; " and so you '11 say the moment you see it, and as for 
 cleanliness, I never saw such a cow." "Well then," continued 
 the intended purchaser, " if we can only agree about the price, 
 and you'll warrant the cow to be, what you say it is, why I 'm 
 your customer." "The price," said Dicky, " is eight pounds, 
 and I'll warrant it to be every thing I've said." " I'll take 
 your word," said the countryman : " here's your money at once. 
 Give me a written warrant for all you've stated, and if she does 
 not turn out what you say she is, I will return the cow in six 
 months." The tailor called for pen and ink, and wrote out the 
 receipt in full, stating, the cow was red and white, yielded her 
 milk freely, was as quiet as a lamb ; that he had had her three 
 years, and she looked just as young as she did on the first 
 day he bought her, and gave about the same quantity of milk 
 each meal. The landlord was witness to the agreement, and, 
 at the tailor's request, held both the receipt and the money, 
 until the cow was delivered up to the purchaser. "When 
 shall I see the cow ? " inquired the countryman, after he 
 had parted with his money. " I've sent for it now," answered 
 Dicky Varney; " we are going to have a cup of tea with the 
 landlord in the bar, and after tea I'll deliver it up to you. Its 
 
 n
 
 WINTER. 
 
 a fine moonlight night, and as you say you've only two miles to 
 go, you'll have no trouble in getting it home." The country- 
 man said he was quite satisfied, and after a few minutes had 
 elapsed the landlord came in again, and announced that tea 
 was waiting in the bar. Thither the tailor, with his old 
 crony, and the landlord, and the countryman, all retired. 
 "What a pretty milk-pot!" said the countryman, as he helped 
 himself to milk ; " why, I never saw a prettier-looking- thing in 
 my life : a red and white cow ! and the milk teems out of its 
 mouth, and its tail curls round for a handle, why its like nature 
 almost." "Do you like it," inquired the tailor? "hey! that I 
 do," said the countryman ; " I should like to have it for my old 
 dame at home, it would please her mightily." " I'm glad of 
 that," said Dicky, " then you'll both be satisfied. That's the 
 little red and white cow I sold you ; gives her milk freely, as 
 you see ; quiet as a lamb, and clean as a new sixpence ; and what 
 is worth all, and more than we bargained for, is no expense 
 keeping." Oh! you should but have seen the poor country- 
 man's face, it seemed to grow longer every moment you looked 
 at it. "This my cow!" exclaimed he at last; "why, it isn't 
 alive." "Then you'll never have to kill it," said Dicky; "isn't 
 it every thing I warranted it to be ?" "It is," said the pur- 
 chaser, " only it is n't alive." I leave you to guess the fun and 
 argument that followed ; especially when old Lawyer Trevor 
 chanced to come in, during the evening, to have his glass 
 of brandy-and-water. Beautifully did he lay down the law, 
 until he fully satisfied the countryman that the cow in every 
 point agreed with what he wished to purchase, and even got 
 him at last to confess that it did; "though," he added, while 
 scratching his head, and looking down very sheepishly, " my 
 old dame 'ell find that I'm a greater fool than she ever took 
 me to be, when I carry her home the cow in my pocket.' 
 Right merry were they all for the remainder of the night, and 
 it was at last decided, that as the cow-shaped milk-jug, had 
 
 74
 
 FOOTBALL. 
 
 cost the tailor half-a-crown originally, the countryman should 
 have it by paying five shillings, which was to be spent in a sup- 
 per. To this he cheerfully agreed, had his money returned, and 
 took the cow home with him ; and never did the village feast 
 come round, without bringing with it an invitation to the tailor, 
 and his companion, and never did the countryman come to 
 Retford, without drinking a glass of ale with Dicky Varney ; and 
 so ends my tale about the red cow, which I hope you will all 
 add to your stock of Christmas stories. 
 
 / . ' 
 
 S^" 
 
 Many an amusement had 
 we in the country that kept us 
 warm enough in the coldest 
 day in winter, and one of these 
 was the old English game of 
 
 FOOTBALL. 
 
 Oh ! what good exercise it afforded us ! What a treat it was 
 to get the ball before us, and have it all our own way, until 
 we kicked it clean up to the goal ! As on the ice, in the game 
 
 75
 
 WINTER. 
 
 which I have hefore described, so did we, at football, divide into 
 two parties, taking, perhaps, the whole width of the common, 
 from hedge to hedge, as our boundaries, and throwing down 
 the ball midway. You should have seen what running and 
 kicking there was then ! Perhaps some boy had just got his 
 foot uplifted, and was thinking to himself, what a way he 
 should but send it, when another foot was thrust out, unex- 
 pectedly, and in a moment it was driven quite the contrary 
 way. What racing there was to see who should first reach 
 the ball after it had been driven a long way ! What skill dis- 
 played in meeting it by the opposing party ! d riving it much 
 further back at a stroke than we had been able to send it 
 forward ; and often a good player would face the ball, when it 
 was driven towards him at full speed, and, by a well-aimed 
 blow, stop it dead, and send it rolling back again ; and some- 
 times, when we had got it within a few yards of the goal, an 
 unexpected stroke would drive it out again ; and in a few 
 minutes it would be seen on the opposite side of the common. 
 Proud were we of our party colours, which hung waving from 
 the naked trees, and fluttering in the winter wind, blue, or 
 red, or yellow ; and when we could not get ribands, we tied up 
 our coloured pocket-handkerchiefs. True, it was a rough 
 game ; but what of that? It was suited all the better to the 
 weather; and we had one good rule, which we never swerved 
 from, for if one boy wilfully kicked another, he was fined, and 
 not permitted to play any more that day. 
 
 I have often observed amongst boys, that during a walk, 
 there is some one amongst them who has always a favourite 
 object, in one place or another, which he halts to look at. It 
 may be, to peep over the parapet of a little bridge, whose 
 brick arch carries us now dry-shod over the beck, or stream, 
 through which our ancestors half a century ago were com- 
 pelled to wade ; another has a favourite gate, which he steps 
 aside to look over, because it commands a view of some 
 
 76
 
 AN OLD HOUSE. 
 
 sequestered spot which he has many a time visited ; a third 
 hast he root of some familiar old tree to examine ; and a fourth, 
 in climbing an eminence, will invariably turn round at some 
 particular spot. I also, in my accustomed walks have certain 
 landmarks, which arrest my attention beyond all others. I 
 cannot well tell you why, but somehow or another when I 
 reach them, they break up the link of my thoughts, and for 
 a few minutes I find others uppermost in my mind ; and this, 
 for a number of times, has been the case with an old house in 
 the county of Kent : there is nothing remarkable about its 
 architecture, neither can its erection date very far back; at 
 the furthest, not more than a century and a half; yet it has 
 the look of having once been a comfortable old English 
 mansion, as if its original owners were men of some sub- 
 stance, and were, what is called, "comfortably off in the 
 world." As a proof of this, it is well known that the lands, 
 which stretch for a mile or more around, in former days be- 
 longed to the owners of this mansion ; while now, all the ground 
 which belongs to it is that which it stands upon, and a little 
 garden in front, not larger than the foundation of the building 
 itself. There are still beautiful specimens of carved work 
 about the ceilings; and the staircase, although nearly shorn 
 of all its ornamented balustrades, still retains its old ample 
 proportions, and in ruins, bears about it the stamp of better 
 days. But none of these things are noticed by the poor 
 families who pay their weekly rent for each separated room, 
 and so occupy among them the whole of the house. Nobody 
 can tell you who the original owners were, or what position they 
 held in society, or how the lands fell into the possession of 
 others, or by what means it came into the hands of the present 
 occupants; and these very mysteries have in my eyes thrown 
 an interest round the old building. I have hunted amid 
 the neighbouring churchyards, and read the names and dates 
 upon the oldest tombstones, but all in vain : neither from the
 
 WINTER. 
 
 living, nor the names of the dead, have I been able to glean 
 any information. There are rumours of long law-suits in 
 former years, how the whole of the property was thrown into 
 Chancery, and that before it was decided who was the rightful 
 heir, one claimant died after another, until only an old grey- 
 headed man was left, bent double with age, and so poor, that 
 no lawyer would undertake to plead his cause and that he also 
 at last died ; and the house, which had been shut up for years, 
 seemed then to have been forgotten by everybody ; that poor 
 men came, and settled down upon the estate, and there was no 
 one to interfere with them, when they begun to rear rude 
 temporary wooden huts, and to enclose small spaces of ground 
 for their gardens; until, finding that after the expiration of 
 several years no one molested them, they became bolder, and 
 built more substantial habitations, enclosed larger portions of 
 ground, made a high-road of what had only before been a nar- 
 row footpath, and so took possession of the estate. Then it is 
 rumoured that others followed with more daring and less indus- 
 try, who when they shook the door at the front of the old 
 mansion, and found that the rusted lock fell upon the floor, 
 and that a few startled bats, which they aroused from their 
 wintry sleep, were the only occupants, and that there was no 
 one to dispute their possession they then tore up the fences, 
 and kindled fires in the rusted grates, while the flames flickered 
 upon' the cold damp hearth, which had been dull, and desolate, 
 and fireless, for many and many a year. And strange traditions 
 still float about the neighbourhood, of that tall, gaunt, raw- 
 boned old man, and his two sons, who on a dark winter-night 
 shook the rusted lock from the door, and took possession of the 
 old mansion. Of the dogs they kept, and the parks they plun- 
 dered, and the deer they brought home, and of the travellers 
 they waylaid. And how that old man and his two sons were at 
 last transported, and the woman, who belonged to them, left 
 alone in that large solitary house, where she lived for years, 
 
 78
 
 AN OLD HOUSE. 
 
 and seldom spake to any one, and was at last found dead in her 
 bed. And how the strange old woman who came and laid her 
 out, claimed the few things which were left behind; and 
 when she had buried her, and taken possession, she let (Jut one 
 or two of the rooms to persons of suspicious character and so 
 from time to time, the inhabitants changed, until the descend- 
 ants of the man, who had first erected his hut upon the estate, 
 demanded the rent from the poor lodgers, and, by the aid of a 
 needy lawyer, managed to get so firm a hold of the mansion, 
 that his claim was never afterwards disputed. These changes 
 have often caused me to conjure up in my fancy the origi- 
 nal inhabitants of that ancient mansion ; there is not a bet- 
 ter built, or a more commodious or substantial, house, for 
 miles about the neighbourhood ; and I have often thought, that 
 he who first erected it, did so with an eye to the comfort of his 
 children's children, who might follow him for many generations : 
 that he had often pictured to himself the merry Christmases 
 which would be held beneath that strong oaken-raftered roof; 
 how the mistletoe would hang in the centre of that lofty ceiling, 
 and the cheerful fire-light flicker and play upon the carved work 
 that went round it ; how in his fancy he saw bams well stored, 
 and conjured up the lowing cattle which would be scattered 
 over the surrounding pasturage ; nor ever once dreamed of the 
 strange faces which would look out of those small leaden-cased 
 windows ; nor of the squalid misery which would sit squatted 
 on every floor of that once comfortable home. I have often 
 thought that he might be one of those old-fashioned English 
 gentlemen, whose chief pride was in his family, and the cultiva- 
 tion of his estate ; that he sometimes rode to London in the 
 quaint costume of the period of George the First, put up his 
 horse at one of those old-fashioned inns (like the Talbot) in the' 
 Borough, that he may have ridden past Kennington Common 
 on his way home, when rebels were beheaded there, and over 
 Peckham Rye, and up Forest Hill, when there was no other 
 
 19
 
 TTINTEK. 
 
 road which led into London from that part of Kent ; for in 
 those days farmers used to wait for each other at " The Fox," 
 under the hill, beyond Cambei'well, and ride home in company 
 togetUer; and saving the old solitary house, now " The Plough," 
 which stands in Lordship's lane, and the little village of 
 Dulwich, with its ancient College far away to the left, not a 
 human habitation was visible on this side of the Norwood 
 Hills ; and the very names of Blackheath and Shooters' Hill, 
 which lay to the right, struck terror into the hearts of travellers, 
 for they were infested by fearless footpads, and daring high- 
 waymen, who rode only on thorough-bred, and fleet blood-horses, 
 and could, if pursued, gallop into the wooded neighbourhood of 
 Penge, Sydenham, or Norwood, and there conceal themselves 
 in safety, until some opportunity presented itself, when they 
 stole into their well-known haunts in the metropolis. Many 
 another picture of the past age has that old house called up in 
 my mind, as I have looked around upon the landscape, and 
 fancied what it must have been when that mansion was first 
 built. Then the woods stood undisturbed as they had done for 
 centuries, until at last a few houses sprung up, and a long 
 canal was dug, which went stretching for miles across the face 
 of the country; then its waters were drained off, and its 
 banks levelled to the ground, for there came another, and a 
 mightier change; hundreds of men were assembled, and dug a 
 deep road through the very heart of those old hills, and a rail- 
 way was laid down, and the smoke from rapid engines went 
 floating over the roof of that old mansion, and such groans, and 
 hisses, and shrill whistles were heard, as had never before 
 startled the silence of that scenery ; and if we look over the 
 landscape at night, we shall see those fiery monsters, flying 
 along, thundering and groaning, as if the speed was not 
 half quick enough for them as if they wished to leave their 
 iron wheels behind, and be at the end of the world in a 
 
 moment. You see a fiery mouth it snorts, and scalding 
 so
 
 FOXHUNTEBS. 
 
 steam comes from its nostrils. In the dark night, you see 
 him flying along, his great red eyes glaring for a few mo- 
 ments, and then they are out of sight in a minute; and you 
 marvel on what mission they have gone. Presently up cornea 
 a long black line of carriages, containing more passengers than 
 there are inhabitants in many an English village ; and all 
 these have been brought a distance of fifty miles within two 
 brief hours. There are no jaded and wearied horses to feel 
 sorry for: neither whip nor spur have been used; no torture has 
 been inflicted, for the monster that whirled them along with 
 such rapid speed is made of iron, and fed with fire, and can 
 travel more miles in one hour than the old wagoner, with his 
 heavily laden wain, will accomplish between sunrise and sunset. 
 Sometimes, during our holidays, we went a few miles to 
 see the Foxhunters throw off; and, although I think it is a 
 very cruel amusement to chase a poor fox over the face of the 
 country, and when he can run no longer, to set on a pack of 
 hounds to worry the poor thing to death ; still, it was a 
 pleasing sight to see the splendid horses, and the hunters in 
 their scarlet coats, and the clean, well-fed hounds running 
 about the woodside, and the groups of pedestrians, scattered 
 here and there. And although, from my heart, I always wished 
 that the fox might escape, yet I liked to see the horsemen start 
 off at a brisk gallop, leap over gates and hedges as if they were 
 mere mole-hills ; over the fields, far away would they be in a few 
 minutes, the poor fox heading the way, and trying 'to baffle the 
 hounds by all kinds of twists and turnings, running, sometimes, 
 even upon the top of a hedge, for a few yards, as if conscious that 
 his scent betrayed him ; or dashing clean through a flock of 
 sheep ; and, when hard pressed, sheltering at the far end of a 
 narrow drain under the road, and, when driven out again, look- 
 ing so jaded and dirty, that from your very soul you pitied him. 
 But the huntsmen had no mercy : true, the hounds were kept 
 back a few moments, to give him another fair start; but, poor 
 
 r 81
 
 WINTER. 
 
 fellow, he was then so weary, that he seemed as if he could 
 scarcely drag one leg after the other, while the fox-hounds 
 seemed almost as fresh as when they first started ; and then there 
 were so many to one, that our downright English notions could 
 never be brought to think it was fair. And yet the hounds had 
 no such easy life of it; for, if any of them 
 chanced to do wrong, or make a mistake, 
 there was the whipper-in, with his sharp, 
 long whip; and you should have seen 
 how he used to lay it about their backs, 
 and make them yelp out; and this, also, 
 we thought very cruel. As to the poor 
 
 FOX ROBBING A HENROOST 
 
 now and then ; true enough, it was very annoying ; but, if the 
 henroost had been well secured, he could never have got in; and 
 what if he occasionally got a goose by the neck, and, throwing 
 
 82
 
 A POINT OF CONSCIENCE. 
 
 it over his back, scampered off with it into the wood, it 
 surely was hard that fifty savage hounds should be set upon 
 him for that. And how could he tell that the goose was 
 any body's property? And, supposing he did know, he 
 might think that out of so many, one could be spared. Nor 
 is this all : many a beautiful horse has been ridden to death 
 during a hard foxhunt ; some have dropped down dead, in a 
 moment, in the field ; others, while leaping fences, have 
 alighted upon sharp stakes, and their agony has been so great 
 that it was an act of mercy to kill them upon the spot ; to say 
 nothing of the damage that is done to turnips, and of fields 
 cut up that are sown with corn, the havoc made in the poor 
 farmers' fences, and the accidents which often befall the 
 hunters themselves, such as breaking their bones, and some- 
 times their necks, whilst leaping over a five-barred gate: 
 leaving alone all these serious matters, it is still a cruel 
 pastime ; and all that can be gained is the poor fox's brush, 
 which, really, is worth nothing. For my part, I like to see 
 his black feet dinting the winter snow. 
 
 And, oh ! what an appetite would a run of this sort give 
 us! You have heard the saying, I make no doubt, of "as 
 hungry as a foxhunter." How hungry that is, T will leave 
 you to judge from what we were, when I tell you that we have, 
 before now, eaten up the whole of a large, cold, raw turnip. 
 "And where did you buy it?" inquires some very consci- 
 entious boy. I must at once tell him, candidly, that we never 
 bought it, but stole it; and we should have thought the 
 owner of the field a most unfeeling, niggardly fellow, if he 
 had begrudged us one of his turnips. " But a dozen of you, 
 perhaps ? and to take one each ? " Well, that would not be 
 more than a penny value, in a remote country village. And 
 how many dozens should you think the hunters would trample 
 and shiver into pieces, as they went galloping across the 
 turnip-field with their horses ? We took them, and ate them ; 
 
 J 83
 
 WINTER. 
 
 and that is the truth of the matter ? And right glad we were 
 to find any thing at all we could eat ; and no one was ever so 
 foolish as to think of punishing us for so trifling an offence ; 
 for, somehow, although it was wrong, we managed to reconcile 
 our consciences to the deed. There was a great field, of many 
 acres, covered with turnips, and we so hungry that we could 
 not wait until we reached home, to have our dinners ; be- 
 sides, if we had left a farthing apiece near the gate-post, 
 who was there to receive it? No! no! my hoys, we had 
 none of those qualms ; and if you never do worse than pull 
 up a turnip and eat it, when you are hungry, depend upon it, 
 you will never get into much trouble. Besides, we lived 
 amongst a race of generous farmers, who would as soon have 
 thought of refusing a poor, half-starved beggar a crust, as of 
 begrudging us the turnips we had taken. There are mean 
 fellows in the world, who, if they could discover that a boy 
 had accidentally done them a farthing's worth of damage, 
 would storm and bluster, and lay down the law, and talk about 
 a summons and a magistrate, and I know not what beside ; 
 such as these are neither beloved by men nor boys, and a wise 
 lad will never venture upon their grounds. 
 
 In the centre of the beautiful river Trent, which I have 
 so often told you about, and a few miles above the bridge, 
 there stood a little island, which contained from two to three 
 acres of land. Humour said that it had been separated from the 
 main land many, many years ago, during a very heavy winter's 
 flood,.; that the banks of a watercourse, which partly divided 
 it from a neighbouring field, had been washed away, and ever 
 after the river current set in on that side, and from year to 
 year continued to widen the breach, until at last the island 
 was left in the middle of the river. Now, of all places for 
 miles around, this island was our favourite spot ; and during a 
 half-holiday, or whenever we could spare time to row so far, 
 we never failed to visit it. In winter it was a place of great 
 
 84
 
 THE ISLAND. 
 
 resort for the wild fowl ; and there we frequently met with 
 
 THE LONG-LEGGED PLOVER, 
 
 or, as it is called by some, the Stilt ; for, according to the pro- 
 portion of its body, it is the longest legged bird that is known, 
 and is beautifully marked with white, and glossy black, and 
 grey, and a variety of fanciful dusky streaks. It was seldom seen 
 anywhere about this neighbourhood, saving on and around the 
 island ; and many a chase has it led us boys, as if it knew 
 how fleet it was of foot, and delighted in running on a little 
 way, then squatting down again, until, at last, as if to show 
 what it could do, it would put its best leg foremost, or take to 
 its wings, and, with its long legs hanging behind, be out of 
 sight in a few moments. There was something about this 
 island which suited our youthful and romantic fancies; and, as 
 it seemed to have no owner, we used to look upon it as our 
 
 85
 
 WINTER. 
 
 own, to fancy ourselves Robinson Crusoes, or any other tra- 
 vellers whom we had read about, that had been wrecked, and 
 lived for many years upon uninhabited islands, where they 
 never heard the sound of any other human voice saving their 
 own. A strange, pleasurable feeling did it awaken : to be sur- 
 rounded every way by water; to know that scarcely any one 
 ever landed there, except during winter to hunt for the wild 
 fowl ; and that there were great hollow places in it, overhung 
 with willows and tall tufted reeds, where we could hide our- 
 selves for hours, and no one, unless they searched very nar- 
 rowly, could find us again. At last an old man, whom nobody 
 knew, came and took up his abode on that solitary island. He 
 rowed up the river in the night in a boat, and next morning, 
 when the villagers went out to milk in the river-marshes, 
 which stretch on each side of the island, they were astonished 
 to see the blue smoke rising up from the centre of it, at so 
 early an hour. What fish he caught he hawked round, and 
 sold at the adjacent villages ; but rarely speaking to any one, 
 unless to name the price he asked, or when he went into some 
 little shop to purchase such necessaries as he needed. There 
 was something rather stern, and cold, and forbidding about his 
 manner ; and many remarked, that they thought he had seen a 
 great deal of trouble ; others, that he appeared as if something 
 weighed heavily upon his mind ; while a few believed that he 
 had committed some dreadful crime, and had taken up his 
 abode on that solitary island, to shelter himself from the pur- 
 suit of the law. Be this as it might, he soon began to 
 erect himself a hut; and I was one amongst the few who 
 dared to venture there after he had landed, for there was 
 something about the manner of the old fisherman which I 
 liked ; and, however cold and repulsive he might be to others, 
 to me he was always kind ; and go whenever I wouM, even on 
 the coldest day in winter, I had only to shout for he knew 
 my voice well and he would fetch me across in his fishing- 
 
 86
 
 THE OLD FISHERMAN. 
 
 boat; for there was always a cheerful fire blazing on the 
 hearth of his little hut. But I must tell you his history in 
 the little poem which I have written, and entitled, 
 
 THE OLD FISHERMAN. 
 
 John Wimble was a fisherman, 
 
 Whose locks of iron grey hung down, 
 
 Curling upon his shoulders broad ; 
 He had seen threescore winters frown 
 
 Above his head on land and sea, 
 
 And was at last moored tranquilly. 
 
 His face was brown, by winds made hard, 
 His voice was deep, and clear, and loud, 
 
 And had been heard o'er many a storm : 
 His brow had also once been proud; 
 
 But age had left its track behind, 
 
 Like sea-shores worn by wave and wind. 
 
 A smuggler in his youth was he 
 Few knew the name he bore when young ; 
 
 But of that crew he was the last, 
 
 The rest were shot, or drowned, or hung ; 
 
 And many a dreadful tale he knew, 
 
 Of that swift ship, and fearless crew. 
 
 He long had left that dangerous life, 
 
 And up the river lived alone ; 
 Upon an island on the Trent, 
 
 Within a hut he called his own, 
 With no companion, save when I, 
 A boy, could bear him company. 
 
 He loved to row his boat by night, 
 When all around the air was still. 
 
 To bait his hooks, and cast his lines, 
 Where shadows deepened 'neath the hill. 
 
 ' T was then he sung some old sea- stave, 
 
 While drifting on from wave to wave.
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 Or seated where the willows drooped, 
 
 Gazing upon the vaulted sky, 
 He 'd fold his arms in thoughtful mood, 
 
 While tears gush'd from each deep sunk eye 
 I marvelled then but since that time 
 Have found how thoughts and feelings chime. 
 
 Some deemed he was a surly man, 
 
 But they knew not his griefs and fears, 
 
 How he had been beloved by one, 
 Whose image lay " too deep for tears," 
 
 To which his heart unchanged had stood 
 
 Through breeze and battle, fire and flood. 
 
 He had no kindred whom he knew, 
 
 No social converse to enjoy. 
 He left his village-home when young, 
 
 But came not back again a boy. 
 Year after year had come and gone, 
 His parents died, nor heard of John. 
 
 Year after year long were they dead, 
 When home he journeyed o'er the wares, 
 
 Garden and cot were desolate 
 One night he spent beside their graves ; 
 
 Then on that island lone and drear, 
 
 He built a hut, and sheltered there. 
 
 How first I won the old man's love 
 It boots not now for me to tell ; 
 
 I went his journeys to the town, 
 
 I strove my best, and pleased him well ; 
 
 And for him many a time forsook 
 
 My home, my playmates, school, and book. 
 
 And many a tale was my reward, 
 
 How ship chased ship upon the sea, 
 ' Mid rolling waves, and stormy winds, 
 
 And thunders pealing dreadfully, 
 While lightnings flashed athwart the deep, 
 And lit each wave and rocky steep. 
 8ft
 
 THE OLD FISHEBMAN. 
 
 Of gory decks, and yard-arms joined, 
 When ships were boarded hand to hand, 
 
 How they the burning vessel fought, 
 With dirk and pistol, blade and brand, 
 
 Till loud the dread explosion rung, 
 
 While mast and spar around were flung. 
 
 How some jump'd shrieking in the waves, 
 
 And some were heav'd up in the sky, 
 The dead and dying side by side ; 
 
 While yell, and shout, and piercing cry, 
 Joined with the cannon's hollow roar, 
 Was echoed back from shore to shore. 
 
 Then on that little island green 
 
 Which to the breeze was ever free, 
 At evening time before his door, 
 
 He 'd walk as when on deck at sea, 
 With one hand on his bosom placed ; 
 While memory many a past scene traced. 
 
 His little bark was moored hard by, 
 
 The village bells in distance ringing, 
 The reeds made music round his home, 
 
 And whispered while the waves were singing ; 
 And here and there a distant sail 
 Went gliding down the watery vale. 
 
 But years have rolled by since he died, 
 
 That island is his resting-place ; 
 His lonely grave you yet may see, 
 
 But of his hut there is no trace ; 
 And there the wild fowl plumes her wing 
 While winds and wavet around him sing. 
 
 Poor fellow! his is, indeed, a peaceful resting-place, and 
 the green osiers have long since grown to a goodly height, 
 which were planted about his grave. What quantities of 
 bald-coots have I seen swimming around that little island: 
 they seemed to know that they were secure there ; and many 
 a nest have we found in spring amongst the water-flags, which
 
 WINTER. 
 
 stood out even into the river, when the tide was high ; and 
 sometimes it would rise and float away the nests, while the 
 little black coots, which were within, went sailing away down 
 the stream the old ones swimming around all the while, as if 
 they were at a loss to know what to do. A famous diver is the 
 
 BALD-COOT, 
 
 and no matter how cold it is, underneath it goes. Even the 
 little ones, which are quite black, are enabled to swim a 
 few days after they are hatched ; and many a meal does the 
 long-jawed pike pick up as he goes swimming about in quest 
 of prey ; for should he chance to see the shadow of a little 
 bald-coot floating on the top of the water, up he comes, and 
 opens his big mouth, and it is gone in an instant. 
 
 Many a flock of sea-gulls also came up the river, during a 
 severe winter; and if a gun was fired amongst them, oh ! what 
 a clamour they made; and if one was shot, the others would fly 
 around it, hurry off again, then return and wheel again round 
 and round the body of their companion, uttering all the while 
 such a wailing and plaintive sound, as made you feel sorrowful 
 
 90
 
 THE KAVEN. 
 
 only to hear it. You would hardly believe that this bird, 
 which scarcely weighs a pound, is able to swallow with ease 
 an eel a foot long, yet such is the fact ; and you would be sur- 
 prised to see with what ease it will cast it up again, if once it 
 is alarmed; and sometimes, after its flight is over, it will 
 again return, and devour the prey it before disgorged. Every 
 boy, who has visited the sea-side, must have beheld these great 
 grey gulls, wheeling and screaming above the waves, seeming 
 to enjoy themselves all the more when the sea is rough ; for 
 to wheel, and hover, and wail above the hissing and thundering 
 surges of the ocean, seems ever to be their greatest delight. 
 And an experienced mariner well knows when he may expect 
 a storm by the manner of their flight. While the old fisher- 
 man was alive he kept a tame sea-gull, which he had found on 
 the island one morning, in winter, unable to fly ; but after his 
 death it went away, and no one knew whither. 
 
 The Raven is about one of the earliest birds that begins to 
 build, and has been found " sitting" on its eggs as early as 
 the middle of February, and that too in a severe winter. It 
 often, rears its nest near a rookery ; and, when its larder is 
 empty, thinks nothing about fetching a little unfledged rook, 
 now and then, to feed its young ones with. It generally se- 
 lects a large tree to build in, and forms its nest of sticks, 
 lining the inside with wool and hair, which it will gather or 
 steal wherever it can ; and will often mount upon the back of 
 some sickly sheep, and strip its skin of the wool ; nay, even 
 pick the poor sheep's eyes out, and feed upon them ; and many 
 a young lamb has been destroyed by the raven. It is very 
 mischievous when tamed, and fond of snatching up any thing 
 white and glittering; and Montagu, in his "History of Bri- 
 tish Birds," makes mention of a raven which a gentleman once 
 saw walking off with a silver spoon in its mouth, and, having 
 watched the raven, he discovered its hiding place, and there 
 found a dozen more silver spoons, which had been lost at dif-
 
 WINTER. 
 
 ferent times. He is a crafty-looking bird ; and you will often 
 see him standing, with his head aside, as if thinking what new 
 mischief he should next set about : and as for eating, it has an 
 appetite like a vulture, and will prey upon any kind of carrion 
 it meets with. Gilbert White, of whom I have before made 
 mention, tells an anecdote about two ravens building their nest 
 in a large oak, which bulged out so much in the middle of the 
 stem, that no boy, however good a climber he might be, could 
 ever get past this large projection in the centre of the trunk ; 
 so the 
 
 HAVENS 
 
 continued to build in it year after year, for their nest was 
 unapproachable by the boys, and the oak was long known 
 by the name of the Raven's Tree. At last, the oak had to 
 be felled in the middle of February, whilst the raven was 
 "sitting" upon its eggs; and although wedges were driven 
 in, and heavy blows struck, which made the wood echo again, 
 still the raven sat upon her nest, and when the tree at last 
 fell, she came down with it, and was struck dead by the 
 boughs as it fell. These birds have very foolishly been looked 
 upon as announcing evil tidings ; and for a raven to be heard 
 croaking near a house, in the night, was considered an ill 
 omen : and I'm sure a sensible boy would laugh outright were 
 
 92
 
 OMENS. 
 
 I to tell him all the superstitions which are linked with the 
 raven ; as if the poor fellow (rogue as he is) could either help 
 having a natural hoarseness, or being black. They might just 
 as well, and with as much reason, be alarmed at a cricket 
 singing on the hearth, or the cat mewing, or the weather-cock 
 whistling in the wind ; for the one would denote about as 
 much as the other ; and it puzzles me to know where or how 
 such nonsense originated about the ravens. I well remember 
 a dear old-fashioned aunt, who believed in almost every su- 
 perstition ; nothing hardly moved without having a meaning 
 in her dim old eyes ; and with her all things were either 
 " lucky" or " unlucky." It was unlucky, she said, to spill 
 the salt, or lay two knives across, or to leave a waster in 
 the candle, or to go out with a hole in your stocking, or 
 to lend a person your knife ; and I cannot tell you how 
 many other things were " unlucky" in her eyes, which sorely 
 perplexed me when a boy ; and many a lecture did I en- 
 dure rather than believe in them. But, since that time, I 
 have found a deep meaning in these things ; they were in- 
 vented by homely old people to make the young ones clean, 
 and careful, and industrious not to spill salt, nor blunt the 
 edge of the knive, nor waste the candle, nor be untidy, nor 
 lend what you yourself might want before it was returned ; 
 and I dare say, the dear old bodies, by the same rule, did not 
 like the ravens to roost near them, in case they should begin 
 croaking too early in the morning, and so awaken them out of 
 a comfortable sleep ; for, depend upon it, our forefathers were 
 not quite so foolish as we sometimes think they were. The 
 fairy that was sure to leave a groat on the cleanest hearth, was no 
 other than some forgotten great grandmother, who stole down 
 stairs at night ; and if all was clean, and neat, and tidy, and 
 pleased her, put the groat there herself to encourage the ser 
 vant ; and I have no doubt but that there was a good under 
 standing between them, and that the girl knew as well, who 
 
 93
 
 WINTER. 
 
 the fairy was, as the old lady did herself. As to the sounds 
 which we sometimes hear in the night, they all originate in 
 natural causes : furniture will creak, and drawers shrink, and 
 papers crackle, and a hook sometimes slip off the shelf ,and the 
 shutters keep on cracking when the wind is blowing outside, 
 and cinders drop from the grate ; and a hundred other sounds, 
 which would not be regarded in the daytime, become audible 
 in the night, and put foolish thoughts into the heads of very 
 weak-minded and cowardly boys; while a brave-hearted lad 
 pays no regard to them, and well knows that there is no 
 more to be feared in the dark than at noon-day, saving from 
 robbers, and men " whose deeds are evil." Many a boy has 
 run away affrighted at a distant object, which, if he had but 
 possessed courage enough to have approached, would have 
 caused him to have laughed at his foolish fears ; like the 
 cowardly lad, who chanced to put his hand out of a strange 
 bed in which he had to sleep, and who, on feeling something 
 with a round hairy back, took a strange fancy into his head 
 that a lion had got into the chamber ; and when he ventured 
 to put his head out from under the bed-clothes, in the morn- 
 ing, instead of a great savage monster, he saw a large hair 
 trunk. As to boys endeavouring to frighten one another in 
 the dark, that is very wrong ; for there are many instances on 
 record in which the results have been serious ; and the alarm 
 has produced such an awful shock that they have never again 
 regained their faculties. I well remember a poor boy, who 
 became an idiot through a playfellow coming out suddenly 
 upon him, covered with a table-napkin, as he was passing the 
 church-porch at night. A noble-hearted lad could never for- 
 give himself if he had caused such a calamity to befall any 
 one; and I am sure, after becoming acquainted with such 
 an awful occurrence as this, you will never be so thought 
 less, and unfeeling, as to attempt to frighten some poor little 
 companion, because he is naturally timid and superstitious. 
 
 94
 
 SIMPLE SAMMY. 
 
 I once knew a poor fellow, who went by the name of 
 Simple Sammy, and who often declared, that he never had a 
 shilling he could call his own ; he used to say, that he was born 
 to be unfortunate, and take whatever he would in hand it never 
 succeeded. His whole life, until his latter days, was one 
 scene of petty misfortunes ; he was always in trouble ; meet 
 him whenever you might, something had happened ; and his 
 disasters were generally such as another person wuold, with 
 common caution, have avoided. "Well, Sammy," some 
 neighbour would say, " have you got a shilling that you can 
 call your own to-day?" "No," Sammy would, perhaps, an- 
 swer; "when I got up I thought I had, but some of those 
 boys had made a slide under poor old Sally Clayton's window, 
 and I slipped aside, and to save myself from falling, thrust 
 my elbow through one of her panes of glass, so my shilling 's 
 gone again ; I shall never have one that I can call my own for 
 twelve hours together." Another day if you chanced to meet 
 him with an extra smile upon his face, and he was enabled to 
 say, "Boy! boy! I've got one at last;" on the next his 
 countenance would be changed : either the sole of his boot had 
 come off, or somebody had run away with his hat, or he had 
 lost his knife, and he must have a new one, or something or 
 another, such as no other person would have lost for years ; for 
 he had such a bad memory, that when he had once put a thing 
 down he never knew where to look for it again five minutes 
 after. He was very short-sighted, and wore spectacles ; and 
 many a time has Sammy been seen hunting for them, when all 
 the while they have been mounted astride his nose: and 
 once in the street, when he stumbled over a wheelbarrow, 
 he pulled off his spectacles to see what it was he had fallen 
 over. His spectacles, of course, he often did lose ; and they say 
 that one day, when Sammy went to buy a pair of new ones, 
 after trying a dozen or more on, he selected those which had 
 no glasses in them, declaring, that they were the only pair 
 
 95
 
 WINTER. 
 
 which suited his sight ; nor was it until two or three days after, 
 when he was about to rub them up a bit in order that he 
 might be able to see better, that he discovered they were 
 without glasses. Sammy was a great snufftaker, and used to 
 buy only black rappee ; and one night he chanced to take an 
 ounce of coffee home in the same pocket in which he carried 
 the ounce of snuff he had purchased on that very evening, and 
 by mistake Sammy put half the snuff into the coffee-pot, with- 
 out discovering what he had done, until after the first drink 
 or two. "It was the strongest cup I ever tasted in my life," 
 Sammy was often heard to say. Another time, he lodged with 
 an old woman, who was a great spinner, and when she had 
 done her work, as she called it, she used to sit down to her 
 spinning-wheel to rest herself. One day, while she had gone 
 an errand, she left some dumplings which she had made, in the 
 cupboard, and asked Sammy to put them in the pot when the 
 water boiled, which he promised to do. When she returned, and 
 inquired how the dumplings were getting on, Sammy said, that 
 they were done, for they had boiled until they were quite hard. 
 Sammy held the dish while she took them up, and the first 
 thing she stuck her fork into, and pulled out, was a ball of yarn 
 of her own spinning. Sammy had put in all the balls of yaru 
 by mistake, and there were the dumplings in the cupboard just 
 as the old woman had left them. Another time, Sammy had 
 been peeling a few potatoes to bake under a bit of meat, 
 which, after he had washed his hands, he took to the bakehouse 
 himself, telling the baker that he should come for it exactly at 
 one o'clock, which he did. But such a baked dinner you never 
 saw from top to bottom it was covered all over with froth and 
 foam; Sammy had shoved the soap in under the meat, for a 
 potatoe, after he had washed his hands ; and instead of gravy 
 he had the lather. Then poor Sammy fancied that he had not 
 Tery good health, although I often thought that if he had not 
 had a very strong constitution, the messes which people at 
 
 96
 
 SIMPLE SAMMY. 
 
 times persuaded him to take, would soon have killed him ; for 
 every mischievous wag made a point of prescribing for Sammy, 
 and it was truly scandalous to give the poor fellow such doses 
 as they did. If he was at the blacksmith's shop, they recom- 
 mended him to try the water in the trough, in which the smith 
 cooled his red-hot iron ; for iron-water they said was a good 
 thing for the inside Sammy believed, and drank. Jf at the 
 cobbler's shop, the water in which the cobbler kept his wax- 
 balls was excellent, it stood to sense, they argued, tliat wax- 
 water must be strengthening ; Sammy had a draught of that 
 too. And well might he never have a shilling to call his own, 
 for after such doses as these, he was compelled to have a drop 
 of brandy, or something or another, to take off the feeling of 
 sickness ; not that I ever remember their giving him any thing 
 that was really very injurious. Poor Sammy ! he caused more 
 laughter than all the village put together: they gave him 
 castor-oil to his salad ; inked one of his teeth, then persuaded 
 him to have it drawn, as it was decaying ; and sent him on 
 errands for such things as were never heard of in the world 
 pigeon's-milk and stirrup oil were stale jokes compared to the 
 purchases they sent Simple Sammy to make. But on this 
 point they were at last beaten ; for the shopkeepers had been 
 so often tricked, that at last they invariably gave Sammy some- 
 thing tied up, which came to the sum he was sent with, and 
 they soon tired of that sport. Sammy once bought a little 
 French dog, as he called it, all woolly about the shoulders and 
 head, and looking behind like a sheep that had just been shorn ; 
 as it was winter-time he took home his new bargain, and, as he 
 said, " gave it so much to eat, that it was forced to leave off 
 before it had emptied the dish." But what astonished Sammy 
 was, that it had not lain before the fire many minutes, before 
 it began to yelp, and cry out, and roll about, as if writhing 
 under some dreadful pain ; he patted and rubbed it, but all of 
 no use ; so at last of all he took it oil his knee, to see if he 
 
 97
 
 WINTER. 
 
 could discover any wound. " Well might it cry out, poor thing ! " 
 said Sammy ; " they had put a skin over it, and sewn it on so 
 tightly with strong twine, that after it had bad so good a meal, 
 it could scarcely breathe, and when I had unripped the stitches 
 and taken the skin off, you never saw such an ugly little cur 
 in your life as it turned out to be." Ugly as it was, however, 
 Sammy kept the dog, and was often heard to declare, that it 
 was the last thing he would part with in the world, and that 
 while ever he could get a crust his dog should have half of it. 
 And many were kinder to Sammy ever after that time, for they 
 knew that however simple might be his nature, he possessed a 
 kind heart. 
 
 Poor Sammy ! he once got into a boat to get a pail of water 
 on the off side where it was clear, when some mischievous 
 boy unloosed the rope, and as the tide was then running up 
 very strong, away he went, without either oar or boat-hook; 
 through the bridge he shot, and far away between the 
 meadows and marshes ; nor did he return again until night, 
 when some good-natured sailors took both Sammy and his boat 
 into tow: "It was a pleasant ride enough," he used to say, 
 "but very cold, and I often thought how my bit of dinner would 
 be too much done, that I had left on the fire." One cold win- 
 ter day, he was sent about two miles with a small parcel, 
 which they persuaded him to put in the inside pocket of his 
 waistcoat; and button himself well up ; poor Sammy was not 
 long before he discovered that it was a lump of ice tied up, for 
 as soon as he began to walk briskly, and get warm, it began to 
 melt away. Daft Jimmy, whom I have before told you of, one 
 day chanced to meet Sammy carrying a heavy load, " Why 
 Sammy," said he, " you're softer than I am." " How do you 
 prove that?" inquired Sammy, halting a moment or two with 
 his heavy burden. "Why, because you work, and I don't," 
 answered Jimmy, " and I 'm not often without a shilling that I 
 can call my own." Sammy did work, and very hard too, 
 
 98
 
 WATER SPIDEtt. 
 
 and his end was very different to Daft Jimmy's ; for it was his 
 industrious habits that caused Sammy, in spite of all his sim- 
 plicity, to be so much respected ; for he was ever willing to do 
 almost any thing, or run any where ; and so high an opinion 
 had they all of his honesty, that it was not uncommon to hear 
 it said, that any one would trust Sammy with uncounted gold. 
 And although it might be often said that he never had a shilling 
 he could call his own, yet few ever glided through life, who 
 really had so little need of money ; for both his clothes and 
 his food were generally given to him ; and a wealthy gentleman, 
 who died, remembered Sammy in his will, and left him a shil- 
 ling a day for the remainder of his life ; and this sum, which 
 was paid him 'weekly, according to the will, poor Sammy did 
 not live to enjoy many years ; and he was often heard to re- 
 mark, "that he was too happy to live long." Many thought 
 that it broke up his old habits, and believed that he would have 
 lived longer, had he remained the same Simple Sammy who 
 never had a shilling to call his own. 
 
 I have already given you a description of the garden 
 spider, and I will now make you acquainted with another 
 species, called the Diving, or Water Spider. Ingenious, as 
 we all know the spider to be, few of you, I dare say, were 
 aware that the one I am now speaking of makes itself a 
 kind of nest, or diving-bell, in which it lives securely under 
 the water ; and, were you to look down into some clear stream, 
 and your eye should chance to alight upon this singular nest, 
 you would see a little globe, bright as silver, and this is the 
 watery habitation of the diving spider. When it requires air, 
 it ascends to the surface, its body still partly under water, 
 while it opens that part from which it spins, and, taking in 
 a sufficient quantity of air, sinks down again. One naturalist 
 says, that the diving spider spins in the water, and makes a 
 strong cell, looking not unlike white silk, in the form of half 
 an egg, or diving-bell, which is rounded and closed above, 
 
 o 2 99
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 though open below; but that, in December, he found the 
 opening closed, and, having broken it, the spider came out 
 the instant the air was expelled; and, although it had pro- 
 bably been shut in for the space of three months, yet, no 
 sooner was it liberated, than it seized upon an insect and 
 destroyed it. The diving spider also lays its eggs, which are 
 of a pale yellow colour, in little cells, from which the moisture 
 is extracted, below the water. There is, also, a species of 
 insect called the Social Caterpillar, that pass the winter 
 together in one nest, which is : composed of warm woven 
 silk ; and many things which you see upon the naked hedges, 
 at this season of the year, that to the eye appear only like 
 dark masses of moss, or dead leaves, which the winter wind 
 has not swept away, are the homes of insects, and, when 
 opened, display such various structures as would astonish you. 
 Neither is it true that the Ants lay up store for winter ; for, 
 like many other insects, they pass away the cold months in a 
 state of torpor ; so that all you have read about their storing 
 up corn, and biting off the ends to prevent the grains from 
 sprouting, with other things, many of which have been turned 
 into pretty moral lessons, are, in spite of their praiseworthy 
 intentions, nothing more than fables ; and, what little we know 
 of the habits of insects, are wonderful enough without re- 
 quiring any of these inventions. 
 
 Amid the silence of Winter, the Woodman still continues 
 his labour of clearing away the underwood ; and you hear 
 the " hack, hack " of his axe, as he cuts his way through the 
 bosky thickets, felling hazel, and thorn, and holly, and bram- 
 ble setting aside the thickest for besom-shafts, and no end 
 of other purposes; and binding up the refuse in billets to 
 burn: and sometimes a baker purchases a whole wagon load 
 of this firewood to heat his oven with, for the country-people 
 believe that a wood-fire bakes the sweetest bread. When the 
 
 underwood is all cut down, his next task is 
 100
 
 THE WOODMAN. 
 
 and this will find him employ- 
 ment until the approach of 
 spring. You should see the old 
 hurdle-maker at work in the 
 woods : how he sticks his clean, straight stakes into the 
 ground, or the long block of wood in which a number of 
 holes are made ; and when these are all placed upright, like 
 a dozen or two of walking-sticks, reared about eighteen inches 
 apart, then he takes up the long, straight shoots of hazel, 
 and weaves them in and out, as you would do a piece of 
 string between, and around your four fingers, until you had 
 covered them all up to the very tips ; so does the woodman 
 continue to weave the slender branches between the upright 
 stakes which he has made secure : and were you to watch him 
 attentively for an hour or so, then to go and gather some 
 lighter material that would bend easy, you would be able 
 to make a hurdle yourself. These hurdles are used for 
 fences, or to keep cattle apart, as in turnip-fields, where sheep 
 
 are confined to a certain space of ground ; nor, until they have 
 
 101
 
 WINTER. 
 
 consumed all the turnips within the space parted off, are the 
 hurdles removed to another spot, where the turnips are all 
 fresh, and green-topped, and untouched. A cold workshop has 
 the old woodman when winter sets in amid the bleak, leafless 
 woods, through which the biting north-wind blows; and even 
 during autumn he is exposed to many a chilling blast, which 
 causes him to lay down his bill-hook, or axe, and beat both 
 his hands across his breast, jumping up at every stroke, and 
 making such a grunting noise, that, were you not aware of 
 what he did it for, you would fancy the old woodman was mad. 
 If he is a merry old man, and knows you, before he begins 
 to warm his hands and feet as I have described, he will 
 ask you if " you ever saw two thieves beating a rogue ? " 
 Then, if you answer, " No," he will say, " Then I'll show 
 you;" and away he will go, beating his arms across, and 
 jumping up, or fetching himself such sharp blows as make the 
 whole wood ring again. 
 
 But here is a splendid bird for you, the Great Bustard, 
 which beats the swan, and every other British bird, for size ; 
 and often weighs as much as thirty pounds. Is he not a noble 
 looking fellow? And if you could only see one alive, you would 
 be struck with the elegant plumage of brown and black, which 
 marks his back and upper wings, and forms so beautiful a 
 contrast to the lighter colours below. But the most curious 
 thing about the bustard is its immense pouch, or bag, which 
 runs along the fore-part of its neck, and is capable of containing 
 five or six quarts of water. When I tell you that the female 
 generally builds on wide sandy downs, where water is scarce, 
 you will at once see the utility of this capacious pouch ; and 
 the many journies it saves the male bird, when, during the 
 breeding season, it has to supply its young with water. I have 
 introduced to your notice a sketch of this noble bird, not only 
 as one of the largest which inhabits England, but because of 
 its scarcity ; for, although once so plentiful in our island, it is 
 102
 
 GBEAT BUSTARD. 
 
 but seldom seen now, and, perhaps, in a few more years, will, 
 in this country, be extinct. You will remember that I have 
 already told you many animals, and reptiles, and birds, lived 
 in England in former years, which are never met with now-a- 
 days ; and amongst these the 
 
 GREAT BUSTARD 
 
 is doomed to be numbered; civilization will soon sweep away the 
 broad desolate downs which he loves to inhabit houses and rail- 
 ways will over- run his old solitary haunts ; and in the course of 
 time his skeleton will be sought for as a curiosity. Nor will you 
 think that there is any thing marvellous in this, when I tell you 
 that in ancient times, large elephants ranged over England, to- 
 
 103
 
 WINTER. 
 
 gether with wild and savage hyaenas, and huge hears, nearly as 
 large as horses, with sharp-clawed tigers, which exceeded in size 
 any that are now found alive in foreign countries ; and with these 
 were found the rhinoceros, and hippopotamus ; and that scarcely 
 a year elapses, without bringing to light numbers of their teeth 
 and bones, which have for ages been buried in the earth, and 
 in deep dark caverns, many of which were discovered by acci- 
 dent, or brought to light by mining operations, and railway 
 excavations. But some day I intend writing a book, which will 
 make you acquainted with all these wonders, and which will 
 prove to you, that England was inhabited by these huge and ex- 
 tinct monsters, ages before man ever set foot upon it. That all 
 the romantic stories you ever read in your life, cannot approach 
 the truths which I will make you acquainted with, Avhen I 
 come to describe the vast creatures that once roved and fed on 
 this island, wallowed in the muddy marshes, and swam the 
 vast rivers ; some of them nearly an hundred feet in length, 
 while the mammoth elephants, had tusks above twelve feet long, 
 and which, if straight, would have extended across a moderate 
 sized apartment; even a single tooth has been discovered which 
 measures fifteen inches in length. But lest the mention of 
 so many wonderful things should cause you to think too se- 
 riously, I must tell you another of my country stories, and 
 introduce to your notice, a character whom I well knew, and 
 who will long be remembered in the village where he resided, 
 by the name of Billy-go-easy. 
 
 Amongst the oddities which were found in the village of 
 Blyton, was a strange, queer; good-natured wag ; a dear lover 
 of quiet mischief, known to everybody for miles around the 
 neighbourhood, and who never went by any other name than 
 that of Billy-go-Easy, for nothing seemed a trouble to him ; 
 and whatever might happen he took it quite easy ; and he was 
 often wont to say, " Grumbling and growling does no good ; I 
 never got any thing by it in my life, and I never yet found the 
 
 104
 
 BILLY-GO-EASY. 
 
 man who was a groat a year richer for grumbling ;" and Billy- 
 go-Easy seemed to get through the world with his come-day 
 go-day sort of carelessness, as well as the best of his neigh- 
 bours. Billy went, one day, to the public house, which he was 
 too much in the habit of frequenting, called for a pint of ale, 
 drank it up, and then, with a cool indifference, said, " I Ve 
 got no money, but I '11 pay you when my ship comes in." Now, 
 when it is known that such a man as Billy had no ship, 
 and that he might just as well have said, " when I come 
 into a large fortune," for the chance there was of either pro- 
 mise being fulfilled ; and, further, as this ship was always 
 Billy's shift when he had no money, and the landlord had 
 a goodly row of white chalk marks behind his door, which 
 stood for pints and half-pints, he came from behind the bar, 
 and gave Billy, in addition to a few hard words, a good 
 hearty kick, which drove him behind the door, making sure 
 within his own mind that this would be the safest way of 
 getting rid of Billy's custom at once. But not a bit of it ; 
 Billy-go-Easy walked up to the bar again, as if nothing at 
 all was amiss, and, taking up the empty pint pot, presented 
 it to the landlord, saying, " I '11 thank you to fill it again 
 at the same price ; it shall be a kick for a pint as often as 
 you like to fill it." Another time, when the club- feast was 
 held at the village public- ho use, just at the finish of dinner, 
 cheese was brought in, cut into beautiful square pieces, all 
 on one plate ; -arid, as Billy sat nearest the door, the plate 
 of cheese, which was intended for the company, was given 
 to him by the waiter, who expected that, when Billy had 
 helped himself to a bit, as was the custom, he would have 
 passed it from one to another ; but no such thought had 
 ever entered the head of Billy-go-Easy. He looked hard at 
 the waiter, and simply said, " Thank thee, John ; thou 'st 
 helped me very bountifully, but I '11 try." He then quite 
 leisurely finished the whole plate of cheese, thinking, no 
 
 105
 
 WINTER. 
 
 doubt, that it was very kind and considerate of John to have cut 
 it up into such nice mouthfuls for him. Another time, while 
 Billy was transacting a little business at the market- town, he 
 had a severe attack of the toothache, so bad, indeed, that he 
 was compelled to apply to a dentist, and to have the tooth 
 drawn. The dentist was very clever at his profession, and, as 
 Billy said afterwards, " It was only open your mouth, and out 
 it went." " What 's to pay ? " said Billy. " A shilling," was 
 the answer. " Nay, nay," said Billy, whom it took a great 
 deal to move ; " I can 't encourage imposition. Let a man do 
 his work for his money, and I '11 never begrudge paying him 
 a fair price. A shilling ! why you have n't been half a minute ; 
 and there 's that barber, at yonder village of ours, when he 
 draws me a tooth, he takes his pincers and sometimes pulls 
 me round his shop for a quarter of an hour together, and then 
 he only charges me sixpence." Billy's reasons, for opposing so 
 high a charge, so much amused the dentist, that he let him off 
 without paying anything. 
 
 There was one landlord at Blyton, of so surly and savage a 
 nature, that he was called " The Bear; " and, as his ale-house 
 sign was also that of a bear, it was a common saying amongst 
 the villagers, that there was a bear within and a bear without. 
 If any one asked for credit, the landlord would point to a great 
 board over the mantel-piece, and say, Read that. They did 
 read it, and thus run the couplet, 
 
 " There is no credit here ; 
 The Bear trusts no one beer." 
 
 Billy, however, bet a wager, of a crown, that he would go to 
 the bear, have his dinner, whatever he pleased to drink, not 
 pay a single farthing, and yet escape without an angry word. 
 Had he proposed that he would go into the den of a tiger, and 
 come out again without a scratch, they would have thought it 
 just as probable, as that he should quit the bear on such con-
 
 BILLY-GO-EASY. 
 
 ditions as he had named, without two or three good hearty 
 hugs. For if either an angry word or a blow were exchanged, 
 Billy lost his bet. The next day Billy went in with all the 
 ease in the world : the bear was behind the bar ; he bade him 
 good morning, and asked him for change for half a sovereign. 
 " Is it good?" growled the bear. " Weigh it," said Billy; 
 he did, it was a bumper, and he handed Billy over the ten 
 shillings change. " Now," said Billy, " I've come to enjoy 
 myself for half a day's holiday, and I should like a bit of 
 something nice for my dinner; what can you get me?" 
 " We've got a couple of fowls and a piece of ham boiling," 
 said the landlord of the bear, " you can 't have any thing nicer 
 than that." " Just the thing," answered Billy. Billy took 
 it very easy, and made a very hearty dinner ; drinking also 
 two pints of choice old ale, which, as a great favour, he was 
 supplied with from a favourite barrel in the cellar; and so 
 social did the bear become, that they sat down, and had a 
 pipe together after dinner. The landlord's niece had gone 
 somewhere on an errand ; the ostler was busy in the stables, 
 so that there was no one left in the bar but the bear, and 
 Billy. Billy kept looking up at the clock ; for he had only 
 until three allowed him, and he already saw two or three, who 
 were in the secret, waiting outside ; no doubt, expecting to see 
 him come every moment with a kick across the road. " 1 11 
 just trouble you for another pint of this beautiful ale," said 
 Billy, " then I must be off." The bear growled " Very well," 
 laid down his pipe, took up the pint pot, and went into the 
 cellar. Billy, who had his eyes about him, and had long been 
 planning an escape, noticed that the large key was in the 
 cellar-door outside, so, rising very gently, he put to the cellar- 
 door, gave the key a turn, locked in the landlord, and shout- 
 ing, loud enough to be heard by his comrades outside, " Good 
 day, Mr. Bear," he walked out. They were astonished; to 
 call him " bear," too, and then escape ; such a thing had never 
 
 107
 
 WINTEE. 
 
 been heard of. They could not believe it ; he must be out. 
 " Out or in," said Billy, " I 've won ; if you doubt my word 
 go in and judge for yourselves. I've had a good dinner, 
 plenty to drink, civility, never paid a farthing ; neither have 
 I promised. You'll excuse my going in with you." And 
 Billy went off a good deal quicker, than his usual easy pace. 
 
 They did go in ; but of all the uproars they had ever heard 
 in their lives, there never was one that approached near to 
 what was made by the landlord, whilst locked up in his own 
 cellar, " he would murder Billy, flay him alive, hang him, 
 transport him, have him tried for robbery," and I cannot tell 
 you what beside. They soon saw how Billy had won the 
 wager ; and when they had liberated the bear, and told him 
 the whole affair, his growl approached nearer to a laugh, than 
 it had ever been known to do since he first took possession of 
 his den. " Never mind," said he, " I shall be even with Billy 
 some of these days, although he has won his wager ; and he '11 
 not get off so easy next time." 
 
 It was one bitter winter's morning, when Billy-go-easy was 
 seen walking up the village in a very different way to what he 
 generally did, he left a track behind him like a water-cart, and 
 hung his head down in a very sheepish manner. What was 
 the matter? Poor Billy ! he had that very morning fallen into 
 the clutches of the bear, and, in his loving embrace, had been 
 soused head over ears in the horse-trough, until he could 
 scarcely breathe ; and, when liberated, he just gave himself a 
 shake or two, and without speaking a word, slunk off like a 
 half-drowned rat, and was never afterwards heard to boast how 
 he won his wager. 
 
 Beautiful are the starry heavens during a frosty winter- 
 night, when all the golden lamps are lighted and hung about 
 the blue and bending archway of the sky, leaving us lost in 
 wonder while we gaze, and endeavour to fancy, since the 
 dark under-floor of heaven is so beautiful, what that land of 
 
 108
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 unending love and eternal life must be ! Humble and awed, 
 we gaze upwards, and contemplate those mysterious worlds 
 the glittering orbs which revolve round and round for ever- 
 more the vast planets, that may be uninhabited and silent, 
 or teeming with another race of human beings, compared to 
 whom we are but as children in intellect. We look upon the 
 moon, and marvel what unknown world lies mapped out 
 upon that bright and rounded globe ! We think of the moun- 
 tains \\hich astronomers have discovered, the distinct volcanoes 
 they have noted down, and the deep valleys in which the 
 shadows of those mighty mountains ever sleep, and we are 
 lost in amazement whilst we gaze, and feel that we are mere 
 atoms in this vast and incomprehensible creation that, while 
 the earth, the air, and the sky are peopled with living things, 
 and on every hand there is the busy stir of life, those great, 
 far-off, and unknown worlds may, perchance, be inhabited! Nor 
 can we conceive that, if this earth were swept away, with all 
 that it contains, it would leave a greater blank in the roll of 
 unnumbered worlds than a single star which is hidden for 
 a moment, does in the sky, where the whole face of heaven 
 is thickly studded every way. Other worlds would still exist, 
 and other suns shine, while over all, perhaps, bent a heaven 
 more blue, and starry, and beautiful, than ever stretched its 
 azure and golden curtains above this earth which we inhabit. 
 All that science has discovered, and that wise men have 
 made known, is, that these great realms exist, and are sur- 
 rounded with awful mystery, and are so remote that we can 
 never know what they contain, nor catch a sound from the 
 distant silence in which they are buried. They may contain 
 other elements which we know not of living essences which 
 have never entered our comprehension. Great nurseries of 
 immortality, where those who have passed away, breathe the 
 tempered air of eternal life! Who, after contemplating such 
 objects of sublime grandeur, cannot, at a glance, see that such 
 
 109
 
 WINTER. 
 
 magnificent workmanship could only be produced by the hand 
 of God ? What are the loftiest temples that man ever 
 erected, compared to these wonders? Beside them, in com- 
 parison, the mole-hill stands prominent at the foot of the 
 mountain. We know nothing of the secret things which 
 are buried within the centre of the earth that we inhabit: 
 of the dark, fathomless, and watery caverns that evermore 
 go down, and the ever-burning and hollow deserts of fire, 
 which have burnt for unnumbered ages in the heart of this 
 globe : earthquakes that undermine and swallow up cities in 
 a moment : comets, that in their fiery course may strike our 
 world in an instant, and hurl it nearer the consuming fires 
 of the sun, or into a region of cold and darkness, where 
 nothing ever yet could live. The axis upon which it re- 
 volves, the unknown space which reigns around it, the 
 worlds which are thousands of times larger than ours, and 
 yet to the eye appear mere specks ; the rapidity with which 
 light travels, and the distance it has to come ere it reaches 
 the earth; that incomprehensible and endless extent of 
 space, which the human mind can only conceive as unnum- 
 bered millions of leagues of eternal darkness, all stagger 
 our poor understanding, and make us feel our insignificance 
 beside the Almighty Creator of these stupendous works. And 
 from the hour that the ancient Chaldeans were first struck 
 by the letters of light that are written upon the face of 
 heaven, to when our own clear-sighted Newton shaped them 
 into words, and taught us to read the language of the heavens, 
 and mapped out the course of the stars, until they rose as 
 clear before the eyes, as the roads through a province ; even 
 from that period, and through all these discoveries, we but 
 gaze as through " a glass darkened." What we can behold 
 and comprehend throws but a deeper mystery around what 
 is beyond, and makes us feel that the grand scale on which 
 God completed His works is above all human comprehension,
 
 WONDERS OF CREATION. 
 
 and we exclaim to ourselves, in the sublime language of Job, 
 " Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth ? 
 declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the 
 measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched 
 the line upon it, When the morning stars sang together, 
 and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut 
 up the sea with doors when it brake forth as if it had 
 issued out of the womb ? When I made the cloud the gar- 
 ment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling-band for it, 
 and brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and 
 doors, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further; 
 and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?"* What boy can 
 read such a sublime description as this without feeling how 
 mighty, and wonderful, and mysterious, and grand, and awful, 
 must be the Divinity that did these things; compared to 
 which the Pyramids of Egypt are but as little hillocks raised 
 by the labouring ants. Yet, in this great scale of Creation, 
 man is exalted above all other things ; he alone is gifted with 
 a power of comprehending these wonders, of perceiving that 
 they are the workmanship of his Creator, and that the same 
 hand which fashioned him made them. The birds and insects 
 delight in, and enjoy the clear air of heaven; myriads of 
 fishes plough their way through the bosom of the great deep ; 
 the "cattle upon a thousand hills" low, and feed, and sleep, 
 and are happy in these enjoyments; man only sees the 
 shadowy outline of the Almighty finger which formed them. 
 I dare not number these planets, nor tell you the vast 
 distances that these worlds are placed asunder, nor measure 
 the untrodden boundaries of unknown space ; for almost every 
 year brings some new proof that man is yet in ignorance, 
 and one discovery but drives another back to its infancy. For 
 while even the formation and habits of many animals, their 
 uses in creation, and adaptation of organs, which we can dis- 
 
 The Book of Job, chap. 38. 
 
 Ill
 
 WINTEB. 
 
 cover no use for while these things, which pass daily under 
 our eyes, are beyond our understanding, how shall we be 
 able to say with certainty that these are the limits, and this 
 is the space; here light begins, and there darkness never 
 ends; this globe is inhabited, and that desolate; there no 
 living thing ever breathed, and here all is filled with life. 
 Days spent in reading, and nights wasted in silent thought, 
 but convince me how little the .collected wisdom of ages has 
 gathered together, and how ignorant we are of the true con- 
 straction of the world which we inhabit. We need no other 
 proof to show the immeasurable distinction between God and 
 man. Man may form governments, and make laws, and con- 
 quer kingdoms, and erect cities; and yet, in these things, 
 he does no more than is accomplished even by insects, on 
 a smaller scale, who are not gifted with the power of reason, like 
 him: he has higher powers than these to boast of, for he 
 alone is endowed with the perception, that can dimly see into 
 the marvellous workmanship of his Creator; that is, allowed 
 to comprehend the existence of God. What are the thoughts 
 and feelings of a noble-hearted English boy, when he hears 
 of the poor ignorant heathens kneeling down and worshipping 
 their hideous wooden idols ! what, but a proud feeling of his 
 own condition, and pity for the benighted minds which still 
 grope their way through such a cloud of error ! Yet, but a 
 few brief centuries ago, the very England which we inhabit 
 lay prostrate at the feet of such idols the Druid erected 
 his wicker god, and the ancient Britons bowed before it ; and 
 even only as far back as the time of Alfred, Christianity was 
 still in its infancy. What are we, then, but mere pilgrims 
 setting out in the search of truth, moving slowly on, as it 
 were, in the first morning of our journey, and who cannot 
 yet tell what wonders may be discovered by those who 
 will follow in the difficult paths which we have paved, and 
 
 reach those hidden gates, before the close of the day. From 
 112
 
 BIRD CATCHING. 
 
 the dew-drop that glitters upon the flower, to the star whose 
 light falls unheeded upon it by us, there may be some connect- 
 ing link which we cannot yet perceive ; that tiny globe may, with 
 unnumbered millions, temper the very air which we breathe, 
 and that star, light up some other land which reflects the rays 
 from our own. Yet, wonderful and incomprehensible as all 
 these are, only to meditate upon them chastens the mind ; and 
 as our understanding draws nearer to the contemplation of the 
 works of the Creator, so do we, unconsciously, prepare ourselves 
 for that change which will ere long bring us into His presence. 
 And who can tell but that the unknown joys of heaven may con- 
 sist in clearly comprehending all these wonders : in the delight 
 of gathering immortal knowledge ! But in spite of all this grave 
 writing, I would not have you to suppose that I was a bit better 
 than any of my companions. No ! I have caught rabbits in 
 traps, and set snares, and gone out with my schoolfellows a 
 
 . n 
 
 BIRD CATCHING IN THE SNOW. 
 
 113
 
 WINTER. 
 
 A sieve, a string, a stick, and a lump of bread, or a pocketful 
 of corn, were all the arms and ammunition we required : for our 
 object was to capture them alive, carry them home, and feed 
 them until the Spring came, when they were again restored to 
 liberty. A little shed, the corner of a wall, or the stem of a 
 large old tree, were the sheltering places we selected; when 
 having reared up the sieve, so as to rest on the edge of the 
 stick, and scattered a few crumbs, or a little corn, upon the 
 snow, we retreated to reconnoitre from our hiding-place, keep- 
 ing hold of the end of the string, and peeping out, you may be 
 sure, about every minute or so; when, waiting a favourable 
 moment, until sometimes as many as half-a-dozen birds were 
 seen pecking about the sieve, we gave the string a pull, and 
 down it came. Oh ! what a running there was then ; and very 
 often in our eagerness to seize the birds which were under the 
 trap, one or two would escape. Although it was wrong to de- 
 prive the birds of their freedom, still, somehow, we thought 
 that we were showing them the greatest of kindness, by taking 
 them home, and feeding them well, when so little food was to 
 be found in the fields. Bless you! we never once thought 
 how we should like being served so ourselves. 
 
 And during these out-of-door excursions, we sometimes heard 
 sounding over the bleak and cheerless landscape, the voice of 
 the little lamb, as it bleated faintly ; and glancing over the 
 hedge, we saw the poor little thing shivering, and looking 
 upon the ground, while it stood beside its dam, as if after ex- 
 amining the snow and the frost, which still hung white upon 
 the grass, it seemed to say to itself, "I wonder whatever they 
 think I can be made of to leave me here exposed to the cold, 
 while my poor old mother can scarcely pick up enough to keep 
 herself alive ; and I 'm sure I feel so weak, that if I were to 
 run about to warm myself, I think I should drop ; and if the 
 flowers, and sunshine, and sweet green grass, that they told me 
 about this morning, does n't come soon, they 11 have to carry
 
 LAMBS. 
 
 me in doors, and rear me up beside the warm fire, and feed me 
 with milk, for I can never stand such weather as this, and 
 that 's the truth of it. A great long-eared hare ran bang up 
 against me this morning, and nearly carried me off my poor 
 long legs; and I can scarcely sleep at nights, the little shed 
 they put me into is so cold; and I often wish I were any where 
 but where I am." And the poor thing takes a turn or two, as 
 if to warm its feet, then comes back again, and creeps close to 
 the side of the ewe for shelter. And it often happens, during 
 this cold season, that when a lamb dies, the skin is taken 
 off, and placed upon the back of another lamb, whose mother 
 has got a sufficiency of milk ; and the poor ewe. that has lost 
 her lanib, will take to it, and bleat over it, and caress it, as if 
 it were her own, and seem, if possible, to bestow more atten- 
 tion upon it than she ever did upon the one she has lost. 
 Many a cold night do the shepherds pass in the fields, and 
 upon the hill-sides, during the lambing season, attending to 
 their flocks ; and were it not for the care and attention with 
 which they look after their lambs, scores of them, during a 
 season, would be lost, so much do the sheep and lambs suffer 
 through the cold, at this time of the year. I have read an 
 anecdote of the affection of a sheep for its lamb, which says, 
 that for two or three weeks it never moved, beyond a few 
 yards, from the dead lamb ; and even when only the wool and 
 bones remained, night and morning it visited them, until, at 
 last, every trace was obliterated by the weather. 
 
 Although the birds, which I here introduce to your notice, 
 do not visit England until Spring, and leave our island late in 
 Autumn, still their habits are so interesting, that I shall offer 
 no apology for thus making you acquainted with them, a little 
 time after their departure. The Ruff is about a foot in length ; 
 and you will not fail to notice the beautiful feathery tippet 
 which adorns his neck, and which, when he is in full plum- 
 age, is barred with black, and white, and brown, varying so 
 
 H 2 115
 
 WINTER. 
 
 much that it is a rare thing to find two birds marked alike. 
 But, of all the fighters, the 
 
 RUFF 
 
 is the most quarrelsome. He possesses as much courage 
 as the most thorough-bred game-cock ; and also fights after 
 the same manner, with his head downward, while the ruff, or 
 tippet around the neck, bristles up, until every feather is dis- 
 tended ; and you never saw a fiercei'-looking little gentleman 
 than he is when his blood is once up. You have often heard 
 the saying of " cock of the walk," applied to some overbearing 
 boy, who endeavours to obtain the mastery over all others. 
 The same phrase may be used in describing the ruff, only he 
 exercises his ambition and valour to become " cock of the 
 hill ;" for they invariably select the highest spot of ground for 
 their battle-field : and so much is the earth trampled, and torn 
 up by their successive combats, that it serves as a guide to the 
 fowler where to plant liis nets ; and he has only to place a 
 
 stuffed bird or two upon the spot, where numbers, at times, 
 lie
 
 RUFFS AND BEEVES. 
 
 rush up together to the battle, when the net is thrown over 
 them, and they are caught. The 
 
 .' _ ,. 
 
 REEVE, 
 
 or female bird, is devoid of this beautiful frill, which decorates 
 the neck of the male, and is also much smaller than the ruff. 
 In former years these birds were very plentiful in the fens and 
 marshes of Lincolnshire ; but, like the bustard, they are now 
 becoming more rare ; and probably, in a few more years, will 
 retire altogether from this island, and seek other breeding- 
 grounds, which civilization and cultivation have not yet 
 reached. When fatted for the table, they have frequently 
 fetched as much as two guineas a dozen. The reeve builds 
 her nest in wet, swampy places, amid the long, coarse 
 grass, and lays four eggs, which in colour bear a close resem- 
 blance to those of the snipe and redshank, and are only distin- 
 guished through being a little larger, and marked with a 
 ground-colour of greenish hue. The ruff casts its long neck- 
 feathers before the end of Summer, and undergoes a great 
 
 change in the hues of its plumage. As this species will pro- 
 Mr
 
 WINTER. 
 
 bably, in a few more years, be swept away, I have enriched 
 my pages with the above beautiful engravings, both of which 
 were drawn from the life. 
 
 How beautiful do the naked ramifications of the trees show 
 through the clear, unclouded moonlight of Winter ! Even if you 
 only look upon the shadows on the ground, every bough and 
 twig are so clearly limned, that you might easily copy them on 
 paper ; but resting upon the clear, blue background of a frosty 
 and moonlight sky, the strongly marked lines stand out beauti- 
 fully : you behold a grace and a harmony which you had never 
 before seen, and are struck with the naked perfection you 
 now witness ; and you feel delighted that you have discovered 
 something new. All kinds of fanciful forms, that were ever 
 embroidered, or netted, are there : rich open-work, shaped into 
 flowers, and stars, and diamonded spaces, that go opening and 
 running into splendid scroll-work, formed by boughs which 
 spread out, and sprays that droop down, and slender twigs that 
 fall between, and cross, at every imaginable angle, in deep and 
 slender lines, as if the inner w r ork were trimmed round with a 
 dark border. Magnificent, too, is the moonlight upon a river, 
 when the silver rays trail from ripple to ripple, making a bright 
 pathway far along, which ever, as you move, is still before you ; 
 growing more lovely under every cloud that passes over, while 
 the water reflects each star, deep down, in the blue chambers 
 that are mirrored below. On the banks, too, where the sharp- 
 edged and broad- bladed flags droop, and the tall, tufted reeds 
 wave with their parted plumes, a hundred varying shadows are 
 ever moving, and crossing each other, as they fall upon the 
 transparent ripples. Nor would an observant boy, stand to 
 shelter under a gateway, on a rainy night, without finding a 
 few moments of amusement, in the shadows of the passengers 
 which pass over the pavement, where the glare from the gas- 
 lamp falls ; each following the other, and moving on with their 
 feet uppermost. Some might laugh to see a sensible-looking
 
 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 man blowing bubbles, and watching them with all the eager- 
 ness of a child, as they arose and burst : but if by such 
 means that man was seeking to unravel the theory of light and 
 colours, with what different feelings should we follow each bubble 
 into the air, and retire with the knowledge, that we had laughed 
 at what we could not understand. There is scarcely an object 
 that exists, which, if looked upon aright, is not capable of fur- 
 nishing us with some idea that may lead to another ; and so 
 on, in endless succession, until we at last are enabled to unra- 
 vel some long-hidden truth. Not that all could gather, from a 
 falling apple, the laws of gravity, which Newton discovered ; 
 or, like Columbus, have the faith to sail along, confident that, 
 whether he reached it or not, beyond that trackless ocean an 
 unknown country did exist. A boy who sees his shadow in the 
 morning, at evening reversed, will soon behold new wonders 
 connected with light, and discover touches in the beautiful 
 pictures painted by Nature, which another boy, who never ob- 
 served such trifles as these, is unable to see. The ragged 
 flakes of frost upon the boughs ; the scarlet berries that peep 
 through the pearly whiteness ; the dark green leaves that the 
 rime has veined with silver; the starry shape which the ice 
 has assumed, as it froze up, into diverging rays, the little pud- 
 dle in the highway ; the drooping blades of grass, frosted over 
 with minute pearls, are all objects of beauty, though on a 
 minor scale ; and I pity the boy who can see nothing to admire 
 in such trifles. Even the absence of so many things, which 
 have been familiar to the eye and ear throughout Summer and 
 Autumn, cannot fail to strike the mind. The leaves, which 
 hung so green, and shadowy above our heads, and which, after 
 they had fallen, went burning and rustling over the ground, 
 where are they ? Rotted and mingled with the soil : for the 
 great gardener, Nature, has made out of their very decay a rich 
 bed for the flowers of Spring and Summer to blow upon. The 
 gaudy insects that flew from field to field, and flower to flower, 
 
 110
 
 WINTEK. 
 
 are now nowhere to be seen ; the deep-dyed blue and beautiful 
 dragon-fly no longer beholds its winged shadow in the stream ; 
 only a few gnats are seen dancing when the weather is warm, 
 and they, somehow or another, do not appear to have that 
 summer sprightliness in their motions, but look as if they had 
 only just come out for a few moments to straighten their legs 
 and wings. And yet what a number of things we meet with 
 worthy of observation ! but notice that skeleton leaf; there is 
 only the fibre left, yet what lace or net-work was ever woven 
 half so beautiful as what still remains of this green Summer 
 roof? How many times should we have passed by this little 
 bed of cup-moss without observing it, had this hillock been 
 covered with wild flowers ; yet look upon it noAv,' and examine 
 it closely : what beautiful shapes has it grown into urns, and 
 cups, and vases, green, and silvered over, as if with minute 
 frost-work, and each rising as gracefully from its rounded stem, 
 as if it had received its careful finish from the hand of a great 
 artist. What a contrast to the giant oak by which it is over- 
 shadowed ; yet both are the production of the same mighty 
 hand : the elephant that shakes the forest beneath his heavy 
 tread, and the tiny insect that bends not down the blade of grass 
 it is so long in ascending, both proclaim, " that the hand which 
 made them is Divine." The same minute frost-work which sil- 
 vered over the lowly ways, on a grander scale formed the terrific 
 avalanche which thundered into the valley, and went moving on, 
 in after years, until, at last, the glacier melted away, and left the 
 mighty mass of rock, which it had encrusted over, and borne 
 with it from the dizzy height, for us to marvel at, and wonder 
 how it first came there. Mountain ridges were often formed 
 by the same power ; and many a mighty glacier wore its way 
 through the slow crumbling masses of earth. The coal we 
 burn is but the remains of forest trees, which, ages ago, were 
 overturned, and buried beneath the soil; and, in the heated 
 
 mass, you will often see how the engrained fibres still retain 
 120
 
 AN OLD WINTER. 
 
 their tenacious hold : for heat and cold, fire and water, have 
 ever been the chief agents in preparing this earth for the abode 
 of man. It seems as if the Creator but commanded them to 
 make preparation for the coming of man, and they obeyed His 
 bidding; as if His all-seeing eye had alighted upon an unin- 
 habited world, and He had said to the elements, " Make it 
 ready, and I will people it." 
 
 But before I conclude my volume, I shall enrich it with a 
 description of Winter, written three hundred years ago, by an old 
 Scotch bishop, named Gawin Douglas ; and I am sure you will 
 be pleased with the number of pictures he has painted in words, 
 many of them so distinctly drawn, that they seem to rise up 
 before you, whilst reading, such as the " Cattle looking 
 hoary " in the ragged frost ; the " Red reed " wavering beside 
 the dyke in the cold wind ; the " Grey, dusky soil," grassless 
 and flowerless ; the " Poor labourer " dragging his wet and 
 weary limbs through the mud; and " mire of the fen." These, 
 and many others, will strike you by their truth and beauty, and 
 show you that rhyme and metre are not necessary for beautiful 
 poetical description, but that splendid poetry can be written 
 without the aid of versification. Nor would you understand 
 the passage in its rough, original form ; so I here give it you 
 as modernised by Warton, whose name will be familiar to 
 many of you as a writer of very beautiful poetry. 
 
 " The fern withered on the miry fallows, the brown moors 
 assumed a barren mossy hue ; banks, sides of hills, and bot- 
 toms, grew white and bare ; the cattle looked hoary from the 
 dank weather, the wind made the red reed waver on the dyke. 
 From the crags and the foreheads of the yellow rocks hung 
 great icicles, in length, like a spear. The soil was dusky and 
 grey, bereft of flowers, herbs, and grass : in ever} 7 holt and forest 
 the woods were stripped of their array. Boreas* blew his 
 bugle-horn so loud, that the solitary deer withdrew to the 
 
 * Boreas, a name given by the Heathen poets to the north wind. 
 
 121
 
 WINTER. 
 
 dales; the small birds flocked to the thick briars, shunning 
 the tempestuous blast, and changing their loud notes to chirping ; 
 the cataracts roared; and every linden-tree whistled and 
 bowed to the sounding of the wind. The poor labourers, wet 
 and weary, draggled in the fen ; the sheep and shepherds lurked 
 under the hanging banks, or wild broom. Warm from the 
 chimney-side, and refreshed with generous cheer, I stole to my 
 bed, and lay down to sleep, when I saw the moon shed through 
 the window her twinkling glances and wintiy light ; I heard 
 the horned bird, the night-owl, shrieking horribly with crooked 
 bill from her cavern ; I heard the wild geese, with screaming 
 cries, fly over the city through the silent night. I was soon 
 lulled to sleep, till the cock, clapping his wings, crowed thrice, 
 and the day peeped. I waked and saw the moon disappear, 
 and heard the jackdaws cackle on the roof of the house. The 
 cranes, prognosticating tempests, in a firm phalanx, pierced the 
 air, with voices sounding like a trumpet. The kite, perched on 
 an old tree fast by my chamber, cried lamentably, a sign of the 
 dawning day. I rose, and half opening my window, perceived 
 the morning, livid, wan, and hoaiy ; the air overwhelmed with 
 vapour and cloud; the ground, stiff, grey, and rough; the 
 branches rustling, the sides of the hills looking black and hard 
 with the driving blasts ; the dew-drops congealed on the stubble 
 and rind of trees; the sharp hailstones deadly cold, and hopping 
 on the thatch." 
 
 Wonderful is that power which, at a touch, deadens all 
 Nature ! checks the sap, and stops the growth, and leaves 
 naked the whole landscape : and yet this change comes so gra- 
 dually, that we scarcely perceive it ! And as it comes, so it goes ! 
 We observe a flower here, and a bud there a few weeks 
 more, and, all around, there are signs of Spring. Even the 
 young leaves of the primrose are visible ; and we can trace out 
 the spot where the violets will come ; and we begin to see the 
 green shoots which announce the blowing of the blue bells :
 
 SIGNS OF SPRING. 
 
 and sometimes, even in a yet naked hedge, we discover a new 
 nest. For Nature has so ordained it, that even in the midst of 
 Winter we are enabled to trace some sign of the approach of 
 Spring ; for there are many li ttle changes going on in the earth 
 which inform the observant eye that, although the ground is 
 covered with snow, there is still a mighty and unseen hand at 
 work, which has already marked out upon the naked sprays, 
 where the future leaves shall appear, and has flung upon the 
 earth some green trace, to point out where the earliest flowers 
 of Spring shall ere long blossom. And even upon the cold edge 
 of Winter the pale snowdrop appears, like a solitary traveller 
 that has set out, alone, from the land of flowers, and lost his 
 way, and knows not whether to retrace his steps, or pitch his 
 tent amid the piercing frost and sharp sleet, and there await 
 the arrival of his brother travellers, whom he has left deep un- 
 derground, sound asleep; as if they had put off their journey to 
 the earth for a little while, ere they set out from their hidden 
 home laden with rich treasures of flowers and blossoms. Next 
 comes the timid crocus, as if half afraid to thrust its golden head 
 out of its green sheath, rising up, as if the buried sunshine of 
 summer had emerged from the earth, and was looking out to see 
 why the sunshine of heaven delayed so long. And even before 
 the snow has melted from the face of the dull green meadows, 
 there are spots, where we might fancy that a few flakes still lin- 
 gered upon the grass, were we not to approach nearer, and sa- 
 tisfy ourselves that here and there a daisy had risen up from its 
 wintry sleep. And sometimes a solitary lark, as if wearied of 
 the silence which has so long reigned around, will start up 
 from the ground on a mild winter morning, and, trying a 
 few notes, soar upward a little way, when, as if finding that 
 singing is but cold work in the frosty air, it will sink down 
 again amid the silence of its hiding-place. The throstle and 
 blackbird will also occasionally strike up a note or two, like a 
 
 musician who tries his instrument, and instead of playing, as 
 
 "123
 
 WINTER. 
 
 you anticipated, puts it back again into its case, so will they, 
 after a brief rehearsal, hop away again, as if they thought it a 
 waste of music to tiy their voices, until called forth to sing in 
 the grand opening chorus of Spring. 
 
 And here I end my book, with a little design, copied from 
 Bewick, a perfect Winter-picture; for one glance at the man 
 sheltering behind the haystack, tells you how cold it is, and the 
 dull, heavy, leaden-coloured sky shows that the storm will be a 
 long time passing over, and that both the dog and its master 
 will have to plod their weary way through the snow, for a con- 
 siderable distance, before they reach home ; for there is no 
 human habitation at hand, nor no one to help the poor man up 
 with the bundle of sticks he has gathered. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 124
 
 186 Strand; Jane 1847. 
 A 
 
 Catalogue of 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 I EDINBURGH . JOHN MENZIES. 
 
 j DUBLIN . . . GUMMING AND FERGUSON. 
 
 (.PARIS . . . . H. MANDEVILLE. 
 
 Happy Ignorance; or, Church and State. 
 
 A Religious Adventure. With Notes by the Editors. 
 
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 One Hundred Songs of Berangcr. 
 
 With Translations in English Verse, on the opposite page. 
 By William Young. 
 
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 Magazine), and we know of nothing better in this way." Examiner. 
 
 " Mr. Young has given a faithful, in some instances a spirited, version of 
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 For the Suppression of Piracy. With Extracts from the Journal of 
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 By Captain the Hon. Henry rUppd. K. V 
 
 With Six Maps and Eleven Views in tinted lithography. 
 
 THIRD EDITION, WITH AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER, COMPRISING 
 RECENT INTELLIGENCE 2 rols. 8co, cloth, price II. 12*.
 
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 Finden's Beauties of the Poet Moore; 
 
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 Mr. Edward Finden. 
 
 With Descriptive Letter-press. In Two Volumes, each complete in 
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 tales of Woman's Trials. 
 
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 Of a Worthye Discourse, held, June y c eleauenth, in y Yeare of 
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 SECOND EDITION, 8vo, cloth, price 10*. 6d. 
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 Letters on the Condition of the People of Ireland. 
 
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 SECOND EDITION, thick 8ro vol., cloth, price 12*. 
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 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 Costume in England : 
 
 A History of Dress, from the Earliest Period until the Close of the 
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 With upwards of 600 Engravings drawn on Wood by the Author. 
 
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 the Country House, and other Poems. 
 By James Prior, F.S.A., X.R.I.A., &c. 
 
 Author of the " Life of Burke," " Life of Goldsmith," &c. 
 
 Small 8vo, cloth, price 6s. 
 
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 tion, quiet truthfulness of description, and sound moral feeling, are essential 
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 e Child of the Islands. A Poem. 
 
 By the Hon. Mrs, >~orton. 
 
 SECOND EDITION, 8vo, cloth, price 12*.; or in morocco gilt, 18s. 
 
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 " We find in almost every page some bold burst, graceful allusion, or delicate 
 touch some trait of external nature, or glimpse into the recesses of the heart, 
 that irresistibly indicates the creating power of genius." Edinburgh Review. 
 
 LIFE IN DALECARLIA. 
 
 The Parsonage of Mora. 
 
 By Frederika Brcracr. 
 
 Translated by WILLIAM HOWITT. 
 
 Small 8t'o, ornamental boards, price 5s.
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 Works by W. M. Thackeray. 
 
 Mrs. Perkins's Ball ; 
 
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 Irish Diamonds ; 
 
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 The Principles and Practice of Art; 
 
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 Author of " Elementary Art," &c. 
 With numerous Illustrations, drawn and engraved by the Author. 
 
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 With a beautiful Illuminated Frontispiece and Title-page, in Chromo- 
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 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 Stories from the Italian Poets; 
 
 Being a Summary in Prose of the COMMEDIA of DANTE, and the most 
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 Recreations in Shooting; a Practical Guide for 
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 With Notices of the Game of the British Islands, including full 
 DirectioiiS to the Young Sportsman for the Management of Guns 
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 With Seventy Illustrations of Game and Sporting Dogs, from Original 
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 Ti 
 
 !ie Art-l nion Journal 
 
 Of the Fin Arts, and the Arts Decorative and Ornamental Exten- 
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 the branches of design in connexion with manufactures, have made it a really 
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 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL'S SERIES 
 
 Of Original Works of Fiction. Biography and General Literature. 
 
 THE principle of this Series is, to charge for Works of the first Class, by 
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 amount of matter in the ordinary system of publication. Each Work, 
 whether in one or two volumes, is issued complete. 
 
 Kautkorpe. 
 
 WORKS ALREADY PUBLISHED. 
 
 " I had commenced an insensate struggle: 
 I combated misery ith my pen." Balzac. 
 
 Post 8vo, (loth, price 9s. 
 
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 Memo 
 
 irs of Simon Lord Loral, am' Duncan 
 Forbes of Cnlloden. 
 
 From Original Sources. 
 
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 Author of" The Life of David Hume." 
 
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 and Barrack Room : 
 
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 By a late Staff-Sergeant of the 13th Light lifantry. 
 
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 Camp
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 Chapman and Hall's Scries (continued). 
 Father Darcy. An Historical Romanre. 
 
 By the Author of " Jlount Sorely ' " Emilia Wjndham," 4e. 
 
 2 volt, pott 9vo, cloth, 18*. 
 
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 Fhc Falcon Family $ or, Young Ireland. 
 
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 SECOND EDITION, with a PREFACE, post See, cloth, 9$. 
 
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 Author of the " Lives of the Poeta," &c. 
 
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 10 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 Chapman and Hall's Series (continued). 
 
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 I he Life of Mozart; 
 
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 MoHttt Sorel ; 
 
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 By the Author of the Two Old Men's Tales." 
 
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 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 1 1 
 
 Heath's Illustrated New Testament. 
 
 NOW PUBLISHING, MONTHLY, 
 
 To be comprised in about Thirty Parts, elegantly printed in Small Folio, 
 price Two SHILLINGS, or on Large Paper THREE SHILLINGS, each, 
 
 A New Edition of 
 
 THE NEW TESTAMENT, 
 
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 I utlcr the superintendence of Ir. Charles Heath. 
 
 THE present Era of the World of Books may not inaptly be termed the 
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 the reader is not sought to be instructed and gratified as well as the 
 mind, and the arts of design are continually taxed to produce novel 
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 NEW TESTAMENT" are convinced that their Work, from the com- 
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 Five Hundred Borders, of surpassing beauty, each generally illustrative 
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 12 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 Sharpe's Corresponding Maps. 
 
 Now publishing, to le completed in TWENTY-SEVEN MONTHLY PARTS, 
 
 each containing Two Maps in a Wrapper, Price EIGHTPENCE plain, 
 
 or ONE SHILLING coloured, 
 
 A SERIES OF MODERN MAPS, 
 
 Constructed upon a system of Scale and Proportion, from the most 
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 By John Sharpc, 
 
 And engraved on Steel by J. WILSON LOWRY. 
 
 THE object aimed at by the Proprietors of this undertaking is to produce 
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 cheaper by one-third. 
 
 The term "Corresponding Maps" is applied to indicate that uniformity 
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 as great a diversity of scales as of maps; the latter, therefore, are so 
 contradictory as to admit of no direct comparison with each other, 
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 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 13 
 
 Sharpe's Corresponding Maps (coiitiuoed). 
 
 each individual map, as always has been the practice, la neither 
 necessary nor useful. The leading purpose of the Work is, to place the 
 Maps more efficiently in correspondence with each other, by limiting 
 the number of scales. They are here reduced from about fifty to the 
 inconsiderable number of four; the sheets of each series, just like the 
 several parts of a single map, speaking one and the same language to the 
 eye, and being capable of direct admeasurement one with the other. 
 The Proprietors pledge themselves to complete the Series in Fifty-four 
 Maps 18^ inches by 14| inches of which a list is appended; and 
 from the progress already made in the engraving of the plates, the 
 regular appearance of the numbers can be guaranteed. 
 
 LIST OF THE 
 
 1. The World Western Hemisphere. 27 
 
 2. The World Eastern Hemisphere. 
 
 3. The World Mercator's Projection. 28 
 
 4. Europe, with the Mediterranean. 29 
 * 5. Great Britain and Ireland. 30 
 
 6. England and Wales Hallway Map, 
 
 North. 31 
 
 7. England and Wales Railway Map, 32 
 
 South. 
 
 8. Scotland. 33 
 
 9. Ireland. 34 
 
 10. France Belgium Switzerland. 35 
 
 11. Belgium and Holland. 36 
 
 12. Prussia, Holland, and the German 37 
 
 State*!. 38 
 
 13. Switzerland. 39 
 
 14. Austrian Empire. 40 
 
 15. Turkey and Greece. 41 
 10. Greece. 42 
 
 17. Italy. 43 
 
 18. Spain and Portugal. 44 
 13. Northern Sweden and Frontier of 45 
 
 Russia. 46 
 
 20. Denmark, Sweden, and Russia on the 47 
 
 Baltic. 48 
 
 21. Western Russia, from the Baltic to 49 
 
 the Euxine. 
 
 22. Russia on the Euxine. 50 
 
 23. Russia on the Caucasus. 51 
 
 24. Russia in Europe. 52. 
 
 25. Northern Asia Asiatic Russia. 
 
 26. South -Western Asia Overland to 53 
 
 India. 54, 
 
 MAPS. 
 
 . South-Eastern Asia Birmah, China, 
 
 and Japan. 
 
 Australia and New Zealand. 
 Egypt and Arabia Petraea. 
 Nubia and Abyssinia to Babel Mandeb 
 
 Strait. 
 Asia Minor. 
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 the Persian Gulf. 
 . Western Persia. 
 Eastern Persia. 
 
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 The Carnatic. 
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 India General Map. 
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 United States General Map. 
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 United States South-East. 
 United States South- West. 
 Jamaica and Leeward and Windward 
 
 Islands. 
 
 Mexico and Guatemala. 
 South America. 
 Columbian and Peruvian Republics, 
 
 and Western Brazil. 
 I.a Plata, Chili, and Southern Brazil. 
 Eastern Brazil. 
 
 A copious Consulting Inde: 
 of the Series. 
 
 : will be published on the completion 
 
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 14 
 
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 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 15 
 
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 tgypt and Nubia 
 
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 THE FOREIGN LIBRARY. 
 
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 Travels in the Steppes of the Caspian Sea, 
 
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 Physician to His Majesty. 
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 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 21 
 
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 22 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 The Foreign Library (continued). 
 History of the Eighteenth Century; 
 
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 24 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 The Edinburgh Tales. 
 
 A Series of Stories and Novelette 
 Scottish Character, Domestic ]V 
 JOHNSTONS, Mrs. GORE, Miss Mi 
 popular Writers of Fiction. 
 
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 In Three Volumes, imper 
 
 CONTENTS 
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 OF VOL. I. 
 The Rangers of Con- 
 
 The Elves, from the 
 
 Mary Anne's Hair : a 
 London Love Story... 
 Governor Fox ,, 
 
 West Country Exclu- 
 
 Freshwater Fisherman Miss Mitford. 
 Story of Martha Guin- 
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 The Deformed M. FraserTytler 
 
 Little Fanny Bethel 
 Frankland the Barrister 
 The Sabbath Night's 
 
 The White Fawn Col. Johnson. 
 Johnny Darbyshire, a 
 Primitive Quaker.. .. William Howitt. 
 Story of Farquharson 
 oflnverey SirT.D Lauder 
 
 
 The Renounced Trea- 
 sure (from the Swedish) William HoTvitt. 
 The Maid of Honour.... Mrs. Gore. 
 
 CONTENTS c 
 The Author's Daughter Mary Howitt. 
 The Balsam -Seller of 
 
 p VOL. II. 
 Country Town Life Miss Mitford. 
 Marion Wilson The late Robert 
 
 Nicoll. 
 Violet Hamilton ; or, 
 the Talented Family Mrs. Johnstone. 
 ChristmasAmusements Miss Mitford. 
 
 p VOL. III. 
 Presentiment; or, the 
 Infanta at Presburg Mrs. Gore. 
 Legend of the Big 
 Fluke ; and the Ross Maurice O'Con- 
 
 The Golden-Pot, from 
 
 The Days of Old John Mills. 
 
 CONTENTS o 
 The Hungarian Maiden 
 and the Tavernicus... Mrs. Gore. 
 A Story of the French \ Author of 
 
 Donald Lamont, the 
 Braemar Drover Sir T. D. Lauder. 
 Mothering Sunday; or, 
 Old Usages . . Mrs Johnstone 
 
 Blanche Delamere Mrs. Johnstone. 
 The Weird of the Win- 
 
 Andrew Howie, the Nighean Ceard ; or, the 
 Hand-Loom Weaver.. Mrs. Johnstone. Tinker's Daughter... Mrs. Johnstone. 
 TheVentilatoroftheOld The Elizabethines Mrs. Gore. 
 House of Commons... Mrs. Johnstone. Old Master Green Miss Mitford. 
 
 %* These Stories, printed in the usual way of modern Novels, tvould 
 fill Twenty-seven Volumes, post 8vo. 
 
 " Capital volumes for light reading, worth half-a-dozen common fictions." 
 Spectator. 
 " Mrs. Johnstone is the Edgeworth of Scotland. If we knew higher praise, 
 we would bestow it." Dublin Review. 
 " Amazingly cheap, but that is its least merit. The tales are delightfully 
 told naturally, cheerfully, with great refinement of feeling, and a skilful variety 
 of manner." Examiner.
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 25 
 
 By the Author of "Harry Lorrequer," Charles OMlalln." 
 
 Ike Knight of Ci Wynne; 
 
 A Tale of the Time of the Union. 
 
 By Charles Lerer. 
 
 With Illustrations by " PHIZ." In Monthly Numbers, price \t. 
 
 " This promises to be the best Irish tale Mr. I.ever has yet produced, and one 
 that will permanently establish his fame, as one of the most faithful delineators 
 of national manners." Dublin Evening Packet. 
 
 "'The Knight ofGwynne' bids fair to rival in popularity the belt of Mr. 
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 " It promises to be as stirring, as beautiful, and as effective aa any that thil 
 most popular author has hitherto produced." Sheffield Irit. 
 
 " A work by this favourite author is sure of success; but we are enabled 
 conscientiously to say that this is worthy of his reputation. The characters are 
 most distinctively drawn the time 1800 the scene Ireland and the subject the 
 Union." Hampthirc Advertiser. 
 
 " Made up of greater elements than any of our author's former productions. 
 The persons of the tale appear endowed with more than the wonted energy, tlie 
 reflecting and serious have more sagacity, the men of action are more adventur- 
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 ous in the art with which traits of character are sometimes broadly given, some- 
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 excellence. Mr. Lever retaining all his own powers, shews himself capable of 
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 description than those in which he has obtained his present celebrity." Evening 
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 St. Patrick's Eve , 
 
 Or, Three Eras in the Life of an Irish Peasant. 
 
 By Charles Lerer. 
 
 With Four Etchings and numerous Woodcuts by " PHIZ." 
 
 Small 4/o, cloth, gilt edges, price .. 
 
 " Full of beauty and truth, and will probably be even more popular than 
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 " One of the best and purest productions of this fertile author. The tale is 
 touched throughout with genuine pathos, and exhibits glimpses of beauty, moral 
 and intellectual, gleaming over the rugged lot of the Irish labourer, like the pure 
 specks of blue in a stormy sky, when occasionally the clouds sever. Britannia.
 
 26 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 Chess for Beginners, 
 
 In a Series of Progressive Lessons. Shewing the most approved 
 methods of beginning and ending the Game, together with various 
 Situations and Checkmates. 
 
 By William Lewis. 
 
 With Twenty-four Diagrams printed in Colours. 
 
 THIRD EDITION, small 4to, cloth, price 5s. 6d. 
 
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 e Book of Symbols. 
 
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 in connexion with Morals, Religion, and Philosophy ; each Essay 
 illustrating an Ancient Symbol, or Moral Precept. 
 
 SECOND EDITION, post 8vo, cloth, price 6s. 
 
 " The Essays are sensible and judicious. * * * We recommend the book to 
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 H 
 
 ours of Meditation and Devotional Reflection ; 
 
 upon Various Subjects connected with the Religious, Moral, and 
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 By Ilciurich Zscliokkc. 
 
 Translated from the Twenty-third German Edition. 
 
 SECOND EDITION, small 8vo, price 5s. cloth; or in morocco gilt, 9s. 
 
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 are irradiated by the light of heaven and the divinest spirit of religion. On the 
 Continent, thousands have testified to the merits of this admirable author. We 
 are convinced that this portion of his writings has only to be known in this coun- 
 try to be equally appreciated." Atlas. 
 
 A Sketch of the Lives of Lords Stowcll and Eldoii 5 
 
 Comprising, with Additional Matter, some Corrections of Mr. Twiss's 
 Work on the Chancellor. 
 
 By William Edward Surtees, D.C.L, Barrister-at-Law. 
 
 8vo, cloth, price 5s.
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 27 
 
 Works by Jl. Eugene Sue. 
 
 The Authorised Translations. Embellished with beautiful Illustrations, 
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 ilie Wandering Jew. 
 
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 With Twenty Illustrations, drawn in Paris by M. VALE.VTIX, and 
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 "2 volt. 8 co, cloth, price 24*.
 
 28 
 
 Chapman and Hall's Juvenile Publications. 
 
 1 lie Boy's Own Library : 
 
 A Series of Books for the Young, by Distinguished Writers, profusely 
 and beautifully Illustrated. 
 
 Each Volume contains about One Hundred and Thirty Pages of Text, 
 Illustrated with from Thirty to Forty Engravings, and an Ornamental 
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 tion of Water-Colour Drawings. 
 
 The Illustrations are executed in a superior manner, and the Books 
 printed in the best style by Messrs. Vizetelly Brothers and Co. 
 
 Small 8vo, price Is. per Volume, tastefully done up in an orna- 
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 JUST PUBLISHED. 
 
 THE BOY'S SPRING BOOK. 
 THE BOY'S SUMMER BOOK. 
 
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 made for use as well as show, and is, considering the vast number of its embel- 
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 OLD ENGLISH SPORTS AND PAS- 
 TIMES. 
 
 TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE. 
 THE INGENIOUS ARTIST. 
 
 WONDERS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 
 LIVES OF YOUTHFUL WORTHIES. 
 WONDERS OF TRAVEL. 
 BALLADS AND ROMANCES BY 
 MODERN POETS. 
 
 And numerous other interesting Works.
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 29 
 
 Juvenile Publications (rontiuued). 
 rc!i\ Suiumerly's Home Treasury 
 
 Of Books and Pictures ; purposed to cultivate the Affections, Fancy, 
 Imagination, and Taste of Children. With numerous Illustrations 
 by HORSLEY, COPE, CORBOCLD, REDGRAVE, ABSOLON, TOWKSHKND, 
 WEBSTER, TAYLER, &c. 
 
 This popular Series of Juvenile Books is now the properly of Messrs. 
 Chapman and Hall. 
 
 1. JACK THE GIANT KILLER. 
 
 2. JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK. 
 
 3. SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD. 
 
 4. LITTLE RED RIDISO HOOD. 
 
 5. CINDERELLA. 
 
 6. BEAUTY AXD THE BEAST. 
 
 8. THE SirrERS AXD GOLDEN LOCKS. 
 
 9. GHI MHI.I: AXD CHEERY. 
 
 10. THE BALLAD OF SIR HORNBOOK. 
 11 and 12. NURSERY Soxos. 
 13 \VH1TTIXGTCIN AND HIS CAT. 
 14. BIBLE EVENTS. 
 
 7. CHEVY ('HACK. Other Works in Preparation. 
 
 Price \s. each, plain ; Is. 6d. coloured. 
 
 Feli\ Suuimerly's Home Treasury, 
 
 In volumes, bound in cloth. 
 
 1. TRADITIONAL NURSERY SONGS OF 4. POPULAR FAERY TALKS. 
 
 ENGLAND. 2*. 6d. plain, 3*. 6d. co- I Jack the Giant Killer Cinderella 
 loured. The Sleeping Beauty. 3*. 6^. plain, 
 
 2. EVENTS IN SACRED HISTORY. 
 
 With Pictures by Holbein, Raffaelle, 
 and Albert Durer. 4*. 6d. plain, 
 7s. 6d. coloured. 
 
 3. TRADITIONAL FA^RY TALES. 
 
 Red Riding Hood Beauty and the 
 Beast Jack and the Beanstalk. 
 
 5*. 6d. coloured. 
 
 5. BALLAD* AKD FAERY TALES. 
 
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 Verdict Grumble and Cheery. 
 4*. 6d. plain, ~i. 6d. coloured. 
 
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 Athentenm. 
 
 "The Editor of these little works is already favourably known as the author 
 of several of the best Guide Books of the present day. Finding it difficult to pro- 
 cure the works which used to amuse the childhood of those now in middle life, 
 especially the works of imagination, he has determined upon reprinting some of 
 the best of these ; and several distinguished artists have not thought it beneath 
 them to aid his exertions by what in their case may well be called a labour of 
 love." WeitmiHtter Review. 
 
 A Book of Stories from the Home Treasury: 
 
 Including the Fairy Tales and Ballads. 
 
 Edited by Felix Summerly. 
 
 With Forty Illustrations by COPE, HORSLET, REDGRAVE, Tow v-- 
 HEND, JOHN ABSOLO.N, WEBSTER, and FREDERICK TAYLER. 
 
 In one volume, cloth gilt, price Is. Gd.
 
 30 WORKS PUBLISHED 
 
 Juvenile Publications (continued). 
 ihc Horse and his Rider; 
 
 Or, Sketches and Anecdotes of the noble Quadruped and of Eques- 
 trian Nations. 
 
 With Illustrations. Small 8vo, cloth, price 5s. 
 
 Herdsmen and Tillers of the Ground; 
 
 Or, Illustrations of Early Civilization. 
 
 By Mrs. Percy Sinnctt. 
 
 With coloured Illustrations. Small 4(0, cloth, price 4s. Qd. 
 
 Wonderful Stories for Children. 
 
 From the Danish of HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
 By Mary llowitt. 
 
 With coloured Illustrations. Small 4to, cloth, price 4s. Gd. 
 
 A Story about a Christmas 
 
 in the Seventeenth Century. 
 
 By Mrs. Percy Sinnctt. 
 
 With coloured Illustrations. Small 4lo, cloth, price 4s. Gd. 
 
 Hunters and Fishers; 
 
 Or, Sketches of Primitive Races in Lands beyond the Sea. 
 
 By Mrs. Percy Sinnctt. 
 
 With coloured Illustrations. Small 4to, cloth, price 4s. Gd. 
 
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 derful Stories for Children' a book after our own heart, full of life and fancy; a 
 book for grandfathers, no less than grandchildren, not a word of which will be 
 skipped by those who have it once in hand. Mrs. Sinnett's ' Story about a Christ- 
 mas in the Seventeenth Century,' is a moving and well-conducted narrative. 
 ' Hunters and Fishers, or Sketches of Primitive Races in the Lands beyond the 
 Sea,' is full of strange, stirring facts ; in their way, food as admirable, as sugges- 
 tive, as (and more practically useful than) Hans Andersen's fancies." Athenteum. 
 
 " How many glad young hearts will thank Messrs. Chapman and Hall for 
 publishing, and Mrs. Howitt and Mrs. Sinnett for writing and translating, these 
 delightful little volumes. We are not quite sure, too, that some old hearts will 
 not be gladdened by their perusal ; they are so cleverly done, and are made so 
 subservient to good moral ends." John Hull.
 
 BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 Juvenile Publications (rontinaed). 
 My Own Annual ; 
 
 an Illustrated Gift Book for Boys and Girls. 
 
 Edited by Mark Jerriwell, 
 
 With One Hundred Engravings, and a Frontispiece and Title printed 
 in Colours. In small 4/o, cloth, extra gilt, price 5. 
 
 " We have no hesitation in pronouncing thU to be the best gift-book for boy* 
 and girls which the ingenuity of authors and enterprise of publishers has yet pro- 
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 chapter, information valuable, enduring knowledge is interspersed or rather 
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 well-selected matter, sufficiently mark it as one of ' the books of the season." 
 Britannia. 
 
 The Shoes of Fortune, and other Tales. 
 By Hans Christian Andersen. 
 
 With Four Illustrations by OTTO SPECKTER, and Eight Woodcuts. 
 
 Small 8po, cloth, price 5t. 
 
 " Every page sparkles with delightful grace and genial fancy." f rater. 
 
 " No fairy tales surpass those by Hans Christian Andersen; and these are 
 some of his best." Alhenavm. 
 
 " These tales range far above the ordinary run of fairy lore and publication, 
 both in imaginativeness and moral. They are original, poetical, and highly in- 
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 Picture Story Books; 
 
 by GREAT AUTHORS and GREAT PAINTERS. 
 
 Illustrated with many Hundred Engravings and Illuminated Frontis- 
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 GOOD LADY BERTHA'S HONEY- 
 BROTH. 
 LIFE OF PUNCHINELLO. 
 
 BEAN-FLOWER AND PEA-BLOSSOM. 
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 WOODCUTTER'S DOG. 
 
 TO BE FOLLOWED BY NUMEROUS OTHER INTERESTING WORKS. 
 
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 the best of the kind which have yet appeared. In each there is a healthy under- 
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 renders these little works of such inestimable value in the education of the 
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 32 PUBLISHED BY CHAPMAN AND HALL. 
 
 \4-\v and Cheap Edition of the Works of 
 Mr. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Now publishing, 
 
 In Weekly Numbers, price Three -Halfpence each, 
 
 Each Containing Sixteen clear and handsomely printed pages, small 8vo. 
 double columns, 
 
 And in Monthly Parts, price Sevenpcnce, 
 
 Sewed iu a Wrapper, 
 A Cheap Edition of 
 
 THE WORKS OF MR, CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 The Works to be comprised in this Cheap Edition will be : 
 
 THE PICKWICK PAPERS, ,. d. 
 
 Which, completed in about 32 Numbers, will cost . 4 
 
 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY . 32 Numbers . . .40 
 
 SKETCHES BY " BOZ" . 20 Numbers . . .26 
 
 OLD CURIOSITY SHOP . 24 Numbers . . .30 
 
 BARNABY RUDGE . . 24 Numbers . . .30 
 
 AMERICAN NOTES . . 12 Numbers . . .16 
 
 OLIVER TWIST . . 20 Numbers . . .26 
 
 MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT 32 Numbers . 4 
 
 A New Preface to each Tale will be published on its conclusion in 
 Weekly Parts. A Frontispiece to each Tale, engraved on Wood from 
 a Design by some eminent Artist, will also be given at the same time. 
 The whole Text will be carefully revised and corrected throughout, by 
 the Author. 
 
 Prospectuses, with Specimen Page, may be had of all Booksellers. 
 
 LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186 STRAND: 
 
 JOHN MENZIES, EDINBURGH; GUMMING AND FERGUSON, DUBLIN; 
 JAMES MACLEOD, GLASGOW. 
 
 And Sold by all Booksellers in Town and Country.
 
 834 *