nies and corners, leaving not a chilly spot; and if a blast of cold came through an open door, it was at once seized and whirled and sucked into the maelstrom of heat. Servant girls as they came in ceased to blow their fingers; servant men to stamp their feet or beat their bodies: a few minutes before that hearth were enough. 'Twas a glorious hearth that; no scanty starveling thing half-choked with bricks, or just built a few feet into the wall, but a large-hearted, open-armed hearth, which thrust itself well out on the floor, and seemed to invite all to come there and be warm.

The fire, too, was worthy of the hearth. It would have kindled the devotion even of a fire-worshipper. It was a perfect structure. All the elements of a fire were there, all scientifically piled and arranged. There was a layer of motts, as the stumps of old trees are called in the West, another of coal, then came a pile of peat, and over all would lie the dry crackling faggots. The fire took its character from the element which predominated at the time; now it glowed bright, strong, and steady in the motts and coals-now burnt more dull and heavily with the peat, and then, as it caught the sticks of the faggots, its flames would blaze and roar up the chimney. That old chimney, too, black and grimy with the smoke of centuries, looked like the crater of an old volcano, as the columns of smoke and flame whirled up it, clouding for the time the bit of clear bright sky above.

The mantelpiece was of dark oak without carving or ornament, unless that horse-shoe nailed on the front of it could be called one. We grieve to reveal this weakness of our yeoman, though he certainly made no attempt to conceal it. The horse-shoe was not placed with any cheat-the-devil compromise in an obscure corner or crevice, but stood well out in front; nor was it a small shoe, such as might have fallen from Lilian's filly, but a good substantial piece of iron

which had undoubtedly once shod the hoof of Dobbin the ploughhorse. Old Penrice rather paraded his superstition, and prided himself on the efficacy of the talisman. He used to boast that old Jenny Giant could never cross his threshold ; which was true enough, as all the dogs had been trained to make an onslaught on her the instant she made the attempt.

The apartment itself was neither ex actly hall nor kitchen, but had somewhat the character of each. Jonathan Oldbuck might have called it the symposium; for there the yeoman, his family, and dependants, sat down to the daily meals, there were the evening gatherings, and there were held the feasts and family meetings. The yeoman said he did not care whether 'twere hall or kitchen'twas the place of the hearthstone, and that was enough for him. All the culinary processes had, however, been removed from hence, as an open door showed a second kitchen, where a large grate and a still glowing oven seemed to have been fully employed of late. As a further proof of disfranchisement as a kitchen, the dressers and the pewter, the glory of a farmhouse, had been displaced by a curious piece of furniture; it was, like everything else, of dark oak, and in shape was part cabinet, part press, part book-shelf, or rather a union of all. On the ground shelf stood a cavalry helmet with long horsehair plume, a breastplate, and broadsword, all highly burnished, seemingly a most impertinent pretence in such a place; but old Penrice cherished most religiously these reminiscences of his having belonged to the yeomanry, and of his having gone out when the country called him. The shelf above held implements of a service much more in accordance with the genius loci-a punch-bowl of the old grey dragon pattern, which had evidently seen good service, and owed its present entirety to one or two rivets; a plain silver tankard, and the cup of buffalo's horn flanking it on either

side; a large deerhorn-handled knife and fork, strongly suggestive of rounds of beef backing it behind. In other recesses were the books which Lilian had added to his library, and little models of ploughs and winnowing-machines.

The dame, too, had her relics and knick-knacks. She had her bowl-a syllabub bowl-handsomer and more modern than her spouse's. There were also pieces of delicate china ware spread about, and an ivory cabinet, evidently a gift from George. Treasured there was also an old-fashioned pillow for lace-making, with all its little bobbins, evidently a relic of the industrial skill of some grandmother or great-aunt. Lilian had striven to get a place for her guitar, but this was ignominiously banished by the yeoman, who said he would have no such fal-dals there. The room retained much of its original character when belonging to a higher state. An oak cornice ran round the ceiling, and the walls were wainscoted. Their dark tone was enlivened now by wreaths and garlands of laurel, laurestines, and holly berries, which hung on the panels and columns of the same, which were ranged up and down between them. Little sconces, too, for lighting up, stood in their centres. Next to warmth, the characteristic most predominant and manifest was fatness-plenty. It had its witnesses in the stout servants, who moved about with the satisfied air of full-bellied labourin the dogs, whose sleekness spoke of a fatness in the crumbs which fell from the table in the cats, which purred before the fires in lazy innocence of the necessity of catching mice except for pastime. It had its tokens in the great hams and pieces of bacon which lay like boulders in the succession of racks which hung all along the ceiling, some cut flitches or sides showing tempting strata of fat and lean-in the geese and salmon which hung to be dried and smoked in the chimney-in the dressed joints which

were seen through the open door of the pantry, all ready for the approaching supper-in the turkeys, geese, and ribs of beef which hung from hooks, in preparation for the morrow's feast-in the more distant vista of salting-pans and picklingtubs, milk-pails, and large homemade cheeses. There was fatness everywhere-a fatness which had endured through generations; and it seemed as if leanness had never fallen on the tribe.

Waste and wastrels were, however, bitterly denounced by Guy Penrice. Every one should have a full belly, he said, but every one should work for it. The chairs and forms had been placed along the wall, and the supper tables drawn up also into retirement under the windows, leaving the floor clear for dance or revel.

The dame was moving about with a host of handmaidens finishing the arrangements. A buxom dame she was-comely and brisk. Her face would have been homely but for a gentle bright expression which lay on it, and which had evidently grown out of contact with higher natures. Years of ease and comfort had left her cheeks fresh and soft; her arms, too, were still smooth and plump. She wore her own soft grey hair, for her spouse denounced unsparingly all frisees and frisettes, and this added to the effect of softness. Her dress was behind the fashion of her generation, in accordance with the taste of her husband. A lace cap was fastened under her chin by pinners; her gown was of thick strong silk of sober hue, the skirt of which was now looped up through the pocket-hole to avoid unnecessary contact with dust or dirt. As a further precaution she had wrapped a large apron around her. Her eye was not sharp, nor was her voice; and yet the eye seemed to be everywhere, and the voice had a certain peremptoriness which insured immediate attention. The servants all said that missus would do more in one hour with her quiet way, than the maister in two with his tantrums; and his

brother, who set up for a wag, observed that Guy would stop to crow, whilst the missus went and laid an egg. The dame evidently indulged in a delusion common to the housewives of that day, that they made the most of their time by resorting to peripatetic industry, and had accordingly a stocking hung to her waist, in which she ever and anon knit a few stitches. As she heard a strange voice in the entrance with her husband, the apron was hastily thrown aside, and the skirt restored to its original flow. The yeoman ushered in his guest with a this is cheery, ben't it," and he stretched forth his hands, and then rubbed them as if shaking hands with the warmth. "Here, dame, here's the curate, Master Jones, come to see ye."

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The dame made a half-curtsy as she said, "I am sure Mr Jones is kindly welcome, but I'm afeard he'll find our feast plays rather rough."

"Oh, he's come to see us in the rough," replied her spouse, " and don't expect to find us very jonteel or French polished."

"Won't he come into the parlour for a bit?" suggested the dame.

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No, no; you can take us there some night when you have your fal-dals and your company; we'll spend the night by the hearth now; so come along, passon." Then taking off his hat, rubbing his head, shaking himself into his boots, and making an abortive attempt to produce a better mutual understanding between his waistcoat and breeches, by which measures he seemed to have accomplished his toilet for the evening, he sat down in a large chair by the hearth. The curate sat opposite, and the dame slid quietly into a bee-hive by the side of her spouse, having first filled the silver tankard with a fragrant beverage, and placed it by him.

Pass round the cup, dame," so the dame took a slight sip, just kissed the cup, and passed it on to the curate.

"Don't be afeard, sir," said Penrice, "'twon't hurt; 'tis only cider

warmed up with spices, and with a roast crab-apple bobbing about in it. Cider is proper faarmer's drink, so is ale, but I can't take kindly to your brandies and hollands, and your ports and sherries

they don't seem to me proper for faarmer folks, or faarmer life; but here's to you," as the cup passed on to him, " and wishing you hearty welcome."

"That seems a solid cup," remarked the curate.

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Yes, 'tis very solid, and have stood good use too, for 'tis very anshent, and have got the date, Anno Domini 1755, but the inscription be rubbed out, and we don't know how we comed by un, whether 'twos a prize, or what they calls a testimonial. I should think, however, there have been liquor enough in that tankard to float a little ship." The curate did not doubt the probability.

"The only other piece of plate belonging to us, was a large snuffbox. My brother have got un, and always wears un in his waistcoat; he's a small man, you know, and we says that it weighs un down, and makes un go lop-sided like a crab."

"I'm afeard, Mr Jones, you'll find it cruel dull down here-along," broke in the dame; "you up-country folk ben't used to our ways like. The vicar was good company once, but since he've been so hurried in mind about Miss Emily, he han't been so social."

"There ben't no mirth nor moosic in un now," chimed in her spouse. "Then there's the squire, too, a-gone furrin to what they calls the Spa."

"Bad health? - Gout, I suppose?"

"No, I think 'twas rather what they calls a atrophy of the purse that drove un away, though he was cruel broke, sure, arter he had to give up the hounds and the hosses, and never took heart in anything, specially after that young Rankin begun to hunt the country. If that pordigal Tom wos here he wud have took ye about and showed ye some sport. Natheless, if you'm a sports

man, you can al'ays have a day o'er the manor; and if you'm fond of riding, there's al'ays a hoss for ye."

The curate acknowledged the kindness.

The dame now took up her part, and made inquiries as to his lodging and his comforts, revolving in her own mind how she could supply the poor young man with fresh milk, butter, and eggs from the farm without offence. The curate began to feel inwardly as well as outwardly warm, under this flow of good offices. He thought, however, that the absence of the legacy made rather a gap in the scene. This absence was soon accounted for.

"Dame," said her spouse, "where's Lily? where's the lass?" "Oh, she's gone to fetch the girls; they'll be here presently." "They'll be heard afore they'm seen-half a mile off you'll hear 'em twittering and chirping like sparrows in the snowy morning."

Another sort of visitor now arrived. "Good to know who that is by the dogs," said the dame.

The sound of his step seemed the signal for a general gathering of the canine species. They came from every hole and corner. The old spaniel uncoiled himself from the mat-the sheep-dog came stretching and yawning from the wood corner-the old pointer left his place at the master's feet-a large greyhound abandoned a reconnaissance in the lower regions, and stalked forth, all to do honour to the huntsman Jim. These were all content with a respectful calm obeisance, acknowledged by a pat on the head or a rub of the ear. A much more enthusiastic reception was given by an old terrier, who might have been taken before for a half-charred log of wood lying on the hearth, and who jumped up now and advanced towards Jim, grinning, wriggling, twisting, and doubling himself, as though he were tying himself in knots and then bursting them again, or sometimes he would seem to go through himself and come out at

the other end. He had apparently reached the height of bliss when taken up in the huntsman's arms. This special favour was not due to him for his extrinsic beauty-an uglier creature never stood on four legs. He was an old, dirty-white, straight-haired terrier, very small and very lean, with a black spot over one eye, which looked like a patch-the other had been halfclosed by a bite-and part of his jaw was bitten off, besides smaller wounds. But Cappy, familiar for Capsicum, was a hero in his generation, whose deeds of prowess stood high in the dog chronicle.

"The wishes of the season, marm, and many returns, and the same to you, maister," said Jim, entering the circle, but drawing back, as he saw the curate, with "I axes pardon, I didn't see you had company."

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Come on, James," shouted the yeoman, 'tis only Passon Jones, and he knows that we'rn all Jans and Joans to-night; there's the tankard by you, though I believe you despises cider.”

If Jim had a contempt for that beverage it certainly required a long experience and a deep pull to create the inspiration, for his lips seemed glued to the cup, and he quitted it with a sigh-half of satisfaction at the meeting, and half of regret at the parting.

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Cappy han't forgot you, James," said the dame.

"Good to know he oughn't too, arter all I've done for un, marm."

"Dogs have a strong instinct in such matters, I believe," remarked the curate, wishing to fall in with the conversation of his company, "and remember a kindness a long time."

"You may well say that, sir there ben't nothing more grateful than dowgs-that is, good dowgsthey beats 'umans in that; they never forgets a good turn or a good word, or them that has treated 'em well. Now, there's this yere Cappy, he'll never forget how I nussed un when his jaw was tore off-will you,

Cappy" Cappy answered by a most unmusical howl and abortive lickings at Jim's face-the canine method perhaps of blowing a kiss. "He met with an accident, then?" asked the curate.

"I doesn't know whe'er's you can call it an accident or no, for 'twas all in the way of his dooty. This is how it wos. There was one cover -the maister knows un, Dunbrook -where, whenever we drawed un, we al'ays found a fox in the same place 'xactly, and when he broke he wud al'ays take off in the same line, and when we comed to a certain spot we shud lose un altogether, and he'd vanish just like magic; so we used to call un the wizard, for we knor ed 'twos the same fox. Well one time we drawed, and, ng to custom, found our or iend. Afore he broke the re sent on some chaps to t to the h 'arth up squire for 1 this

un, and so he took and we drove 'im to ong the tors. Then the re he wud hae un out, as mortal anxious to see e wizard; so we sends for pick and puts in Cappy and anothe tarrier. Afore the men cud come to dig, we heerd a growling and a scuffling in the mouth of the 'arth, and out cum the wizard with Cappy a hanging on to un. Lor'-amassy, he wos the biggest fox I ever seed, all straiky with grey. As soon as he got into the open he flinged Cappy from un as thof he'd been the twig of a tree, and drashed un down to the ground. So I did but jest put the dowgs on the wizard and cum back to Cappy. There he was, a-lying with his jaw hanging by a little bit of skin, so I bandages un as well as I cud, and makes a little bed of the moss and leaves for un. Well, we lost the wizard again at the ould spot, and then I goes and takes home Cappy afore me on the pony. I made a bed for un in the saddle-room and nussed un day and night, and sometimes sot up with un to dress his wounds. Well, I never, thof he wos in cruel pain, heard this little dowg groan

or whine, but he wud look up in my face as much as to say, 'Tis an honourable wound, James, and was got all in the way of dooty."

"More shame to you, James," said the dame, "for teaching un to fight and get in harm's way."

"No, marm, I didn't teach un, 'twas his natur; if we hadn't trained un to go agin the varments he wud hae been fighting with his own kind. I never put dowg agin dowg; but some is born to fight. 'Tis the same with the 'umans. Some ov 'em is never happy 'cept they is giving one anither black eyes, or shoving a bayonet or driving a bit of lead through one anither."

"You seem," said the curate, "to have made the dog a regular study."

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'In coose I have; 'twas my dooty, my vocashun, as the vicar called it, to study 'em. You'll never rule nothing, dowg or 'uman, 'cep you studies 'em and watches 'em in all their ways. Now there's the doctors, and, axing your pardon, the passons too, wud give the same dose to everybody. There's old Doctor Drenchpot wud treat an ould scarecrow like me same as he wud the maister, and old Passon Piejohn wud preach the same sarment to the missus as he would to Rich Jope" (Rich Jope was a noted poacher, and therefore in Jim's eye a criminal of blackest soul). "No, you can never do nothing with dowgs or 'umans that way. They must know you, and you must know they. Now you flog one dowg and spoils un, breaks his sperit-you flog anither, and makes un a good hound for life; you may trust one dowg to eat by hisself, and you must watch anither or he'd eat till he bust."

"Why, you are quite a philosopher, James," said the curate, "and in your love for the dog, would almost sympathise with the Indian of whom the poet speaks."

"What was that, sir, please?" said James, eagerly.

The curate quoted the well-known lines