44 THE WASHINGTONS’

is “My Lord’s head keeper,” and proud he is of
his position.

The hounds. came past on Saturday, his grand-
‘daughter said ; and though he had been ailing for
a day or two, the old man ordered his horse, and
-escorted the Empress of Austria across the Park.

“Ves,” he said, “I saw.them all.— There was
Lord , he came ard spoke to me, and I asked
how his son was — nice boy he was—used to be
‘often at Althorp. He said he was in Ireland.
And Squire B come and spoke to me—Ah
‘yes! they all know me. Last time the Prince of
‘Wales was here, he came up to see me — but I was
-out.”

And the fine cheery old face lights up at the
remembrance of all these little attentions. I told
thim I had never seen a heronry before, and he
‘beamed again.

“Ah! now,” he said, “TI am pleased they’ve
‘gone back there! At one time I was afraid as
they’d all go away. They took to. building in a

 

 

‘little spinney close down here in Holdenby fields +

‘but I wasn’t going to stand that—so I took a man
or two, and pulled every one of their nests right
down; and then they went back to the old place.
I was ea for they’ve built there ee between two
‘hundred and three hundred years.”

He told us that the herons go out at night in
‘long lines, two and two, and rob the fish ponds and
the shallows for miles round — standing motionless
‘under the hedges waiting for the favorable hour to
‘begin, like a regiment of soldiers: and before
‘morning they came home with their pouches
‘crammed with fish and 4
eels. One he said
‘brought home an eel
hook and well besides
the eel, and got himself
‘hooked up in the trees
by it, and would have
‘starved to death had not
the keepers climbed up
-and released him.

But now the sun is
getting low, and we turn
thomewards across the
Park, past the herds of END

 

OF A LANE IN BRINGTON.

ENGLISH HOME.

deer under the great trees feeding up to the sunset ;
and overhead stream up countless thousands of
rooks and their attendant jackdaws. Away to

the west, from out of the eye of the setting sun,

 

they come, seemingly an interminable line ever
growing and increasing; and then when they
settle down in the trees on the knolls above the
house, what a sea of sound their voices make, till
night. falls and quiets
them. -
Up the avenue the
church tower over the
Washington graves
glows against the bright
evening sky: and as we
near home children’s
voices playing round the
old Market Cross by
_the Rectory gates, rise
shrill and clear, and we
are once more in the
work-a-day world.