8 THE STORY OF A BIRD LOVER 



the Pantheon, Notre Dame, and many more dis- 

 tributed in the scene, the river running in front. 

 But it was when I reached the second story that 

 my childish imagination was exercised. Here the 

 panorama was of a different kind ; it represented 

 scenes in India — the pursuit of deer and various 

 kinds of smaller game, the hunting of the tiger 

 and the lion by the natives, perched on great 

 elephants with magnificent trappings. These 

 views are not duplicated in the wall paper; the 

 scene is continuous, passing from one end of the 

 hall to the other, a panorama rich in color and 

 incident. I had thus in my mind a picture of 

 India, I knew what kind of trees grew there, I 

 knew the clothes people wore and the arms they 

 used while hunting. To-day the same paper 

 hangs in the halls of the old house. 



The Chippendale sideboards, the spindle-legged 

 and fiddle-backed chairs, the claw-footed tables and 

 sofas, the four posters and high daddies, the old 

 clock on the stairs with its moon, still stand in 

 their remembered places. All the rooms have great 

 open fireplaces ; and to this day there is no such 

 thing as modern heating apparatus, or plumbing, 

 in the house. 



Facing the front door is a mound surrounded 

 by a circular roadway, and here my grandfather 

 had erected a sun-dial, an object of mysterious 

 charm. Beyond this circle, a gateway leads to an 



