488 Wheat./toemg. [MAY, 



Farther on, almost at the summit of the hill, stands the old church with its 

 massy tower a row of superb lime-trees running along one side of the 

 church-yard, and a cluster of dark yews shading the other. Few country 

 churches have so much to boast in architectural beautv, or in grandeur of 

 situation. 



We lose sight of it as we mount the hill, the lane narrowing and winding 

 between deep banks, surmounted by high hedges, excluding all prospects 

 till we reach the front of the vicarage, and catch across the gate of the 

 opposite field a burst of country the most extensive and the most beautiful 

 field and village, mansion and cot, town and river, all smiling under the 

 sparkling sun of May, and united and harmonized by the profusion of 

 hedgerow timber in its freshest verdure, giving a rich woodland character 

 to the scene, till it is terminated in the distance by the blue Hue of the 

 Hampshire hills almost melting into the horizon. Such is the view from 

 the vicarage. But it is every way better to look at this glorious prospect 

 from within the house. So we will ring at the door. " Not at home ?'' 

 I am very sorry, and my companion is very glad. 



This companion of mine, the only person in the parish who would be 

 glad to miss seeing the ladies of the vicarage, is a magnificent greyhound, 

 whom the author of Waverley has saved me the trouble of describing 

 inasmuch as Sir Henry Lee's dog Bevis is my dog Mossy to a hair. I do 

 think that, some way or other, Sir Walter must have seen him. Never 

 was such a likeness, except that Mossy is all over slightly brindled ; that 

 is to say, that the rich brown is lightly mingled with rich black. A most 

 superb dog is my moss-trooper, and a most amiable but sworn foe to morn- 

 ing visits ; for, although he be an universal favourite, it is utterly impossible 

 to think of taking such a follower into a drawing-room : Farmer Thorpe 

 might as well introduce his pet, the bay filly ; and to all sorts of waiting, 

 whether in hall, or court, or kitchen, Mossy has the most decided aversion. 

 He is sure to bark for me (and I could swear to his note as readily as 

 Dame Simmons to poor Chanticleer's) before I have been seated ten 

 minutes ; and the bark becomes very cross and impatient indeed, if 1 do 

 not come to him in five minutes more. This " not at home," which he 

 understood as well as I did, has enchanted him. He has nearly knocked 

 me down in his transports, and is frolicking and gambolling about me in 

 inexpressible ecstasy, and putting shawl, and veil, and flounces in 

 grievous peril. 



" Be quiet, Mossy ! pray be quiet, my dear Mossy !" And having at 

 last succeeded in tranquillizing my affectionate, but obstreperous com- 

 panion, we set forth homeward in great good-humour. 



Down the hill, and round the corner, and past Farmer Thorpe's house. 



" One glance at the wheat-hoers, Mossy, and then we will go home." 



Ah ! it is just as I feared. Jem and Susan have been parted : they are 

 now at opposite sides of the fields he looking very angry, working rapidly 

 and violently, and doing more harm than good she looking tolerably 

 sulky, and just moving her hoe, but evidently doing nothing at all. Farmer 

 Thorpe, on his part, is standing in the middle of the field, observing, but 

 pretending not to observe, the little humours of the separated lovers. There 

 is a lurking smile about the corners of his mouth that bespeaks him more 

 amused than angry. He is a kind person after all, and will certainly 

 make no mischief. I should not even wonder if he espoused Jem Tanner's 

 cause ; and, for certain, if any one can prevail on the little clerk to give 

 up his squinting favourite in favour of true love, Farmer Thorpe is the 

 man. M . 



