Jnly^^S. ps. ) 



30X}n^A^ OF HOBTICULTUBB AND COTXA,QE GABDENEB, 



59 



nest, when tbe fond aii'l fiiiuilv christian imiuo was up more 

 beard by mo, aud the lu.ld Mr. was iu ita pliice. 



Full (if tlieso tliniiKlitH 1 pass Bath thu lipaiitifnl, and then, 

 not vcrj' long afterwards, Bristol the bustling. ('iitcbinR a 

 glimpse, aftor Bristtd tiiiolie (nbokiua. liorriblu it is), Uns been 

 passed, of that fairy-liko work, the Clifton Husponsion Bridge, 

 if not the finest bridge in the world, its situation is certainly 

 Be^'gml to nouo. Soon I arrived at Yaltou, aud there on tbe 

 same side, iu the same jilacu where I bad been met twenty- 

 three years ago, sat my friend Jlr. Itoilbard. After a hearty 

 greeting, we are soon driving through Yatton village, with its 

 old church and stiunp towert a sort of miniature St. Mary's 

 Bedclifife. We diverge to tlie left to visit, on our way to Ald- 

 wick Court, some chickens which are being brought up at a 

 CDttage. AVe tuni do\vn a narrow lane, with those large orchards 

 here and there, which make one feel at once to be iu Somerset- 

 shire. By-the-way, an oreliard country is a good one for 

 poultry, as orchards give both grass runs, always available, not 

 being mown, and also abiuulance of shade. Somerselshire 

 cottages are still, as of yore, poor places, though oceasionally pic- 

 tures(iue-ldoking. We pull up at one, and a girl ■nith a wcst-of- 

 Euglnud face comes to hold our horse, but back she starts, as 

 if afraid. On seeing her fear, her mother, with true motherly 

 feeling, took the reins from her hand. We enter an odd place 

 — ^the roof of the cottage had been lengthened, aud a slight 

 edifice added on, o]>en, however, at the gable. This afforded a 

 space light and dry for tbe chickens to run into in ease of wet, 

 and it was a good place for feeding. There sat the hens, and 

 in, upon hearing our footsteps, scrambled, as if to show tliem- 

 seives, a number of Partridge Cocliiu chicks of various ages. 

 But let me not forget the old lady who was their care-taker, 

 and very careful she seemed of them, and not a little jjroud of 

 them, pointing out eagerly the best birds according to her 

 judgment. Poor old woman ! once she was tall and straight, 

 perhaps she had been upright as a wUlow wand, and graceful 

 too ; but now she was bent double, though, happily, there was 

 little trace of feebleness in her countenance. Poor thing ! she 

 reminded nie of Wordsworth's " Cumberland Beggar," for 



*' On the groimd 

 Her eyes ftre turned, and, as she moves along, 

 Tk'iy move uloun the ground. One little span of earth 

 I^ ail her prospect. ThlLS from day to day. 

 Bow-bent, her eyes for ever on the gromid." 



Yet let me waste no pity upon her, she seemed happy enough, 

 and the Providence that tempers the wind to the shorn lamb 

 gave her pleasures all her own, in spite of bodily infirmity. 

 Passing through this elongated cottage, we entered tbe old 

 body's orchard, and I atbnired, with admiration mifeigned, 

 many promising Partridge cockerels and pullets. A fine strain, 

 a very fine strain, is yours, Mr. Rodbard. We take oiu- leave of the 

 old woman. By-the-way, many such an old body has reason to 

 bless the love of poultry which prevails now-a-days in Euglaud, 

 as it adds many a comfort to their slender s-tores. 



Again we are thi-eading the narrow lane, and now we rettu-n 

 to the main road. On our right, Congersbui-y s))ire, in the 

 heart of the rich valley, gUtters through the trees. Now, 

 straight on for Wrington. i cannot forbear turning my eyes 

 westward, for there. across the valley stand the beautifiU Meudip 

 HUls, not bleak aud bare as are northern hills, but their sides 

 covered with verdure, and in some instances the enclosures run 

 almost to the top. 



Beautiful Mendips ! the- first hiDs I ever saw ! for I came 

 straight from flat Cambridgeshire, when a mere youth, to 

 Somerset, and my eyes were enchanted with the Mendips. I 

 reooUect scarce being able to dress the first morning (at any 

 rate it was a lengthened toilet), from the admiration with 

 which I paused and gazed upon the gently swelling hills, those 

 lines of beauty ; and although, since those days. I have looked 

 upon the Grampians year after year, and gazed upon our lake 

 mountains week after week, yet my first bill love is the 

 strongest. I compare all hills with tlie Mendips. But, we are 

 at Wrington, which is a kind of village metropolis to the sur- 

 rounding district. Here was horn .John Locke the philosopher, 

 and a tablet marks the spot, while a monument in the chiu'ch 

 perpetuates his memory. Nor is this the only literary bonom' 

 of which Wrington has to boast, for close by lived for many 

 years Hannah More, a good woman who did a noble work in 

 her day and generation. There to the left was her residence. 

 Barley Wood by name. Bishops, nobles, statesmen (among 

 them good Mr. Wilberforce), clergymen, ladies iunimiei'able here 

 visited Mrs. More in her thatch-covered picturesque cottage. 



We drive on, chatting pleasantly, albeit the dnst is terrible ; 



I feel to be taking snull upon oompulsiou every minute, and 

 that nut of the hcHt kind. A pull on for two miloH or so, and 

 Aldw'ick Conrt is before us, standing on tbe sptirof a hill pared 

 flat to receive it. Uy the way, that sniuU tljatched Cottage to 

 our right was nannah .Moro's home before she«ruvv rich 

 enough to tenant Barley Wood. Pi-etty Cowslip IjO(lg:e ! here 

 the authoress planned many of her w'orks, and, hnUHx still, 

 carried out her pbuis. From yonder gate she sallied, witk 

 thick shoos on, to pereuado tbe thicker heads of the poor to let 

 her have their children on a Sunday to teach. 



A little further on, a gate, a lodge to tbe left of it, a short 

 avenue, then ivy-covered stables to the left, then A Bi/uare of 

 bright gravel, aud we are iu front of the pretty mansion, - 

 yclept Aldwick Court. ' One side of the house looks up the I 

 valley aud takes in a view of the sea, breaking on the coastat 

 Weston, and on a clear day the Stee]> Holmes island is visible, ] 

 and also tbe Welsh hills. The other side takes in the Mendip ', 

 range. Behind is a thick wood, coming up to tlie very house 

 without even a dividing fence. Sunny, airy, bright, jileasaut 

 Aldwick ! and better than all, it has such an English-home look 

 about it. Tci-morrow morning I am to see the renowiied 

 poultry, so let me enter the hosjritable door in haste, lor iu ' 

 half an Iioin- dinner will be ready. The hall is filled with 

 cases of stuffed bird.s and smaller animals, some iu pairs, 

 others iu groups. Surely these and old oak furniture are a 

 hall's best ornaments. I linger roiiml tlii' c;ises, noting this 

 bird and thatT'f'aTn' then show^n a painting in oils .rf th,' Trsf ' 

 Spanish coo^i possessed, by Mr. Kodbard— his first priiie-takefcl'' 

 ancestor of_aJine.and.fort.uuatg_raCB._ The di-gssing-bell rings,-, 

 and I obey its summons, and I more gladly obeyed the sum- 

 mons of that eatiug-aml-drinking-invdting bell which rang 

 twenty minutes later. 



Dinner ! how welcome after hoiu-s of dusty travelling — wel- 

 come cool dining-room, welcome the pleasant talk, and welcome ' 

 Somersetshire cider. Now, during dinner, in spite of the fair '.' 

 ladies, in spite of interesting talk, in spite of the good pictures 

 on tbe waUs, iu spite of all and everything, my eyes uoiild ',. 

 wander to the sideboard, on which stood an almost innmnerabl^' ''. 

 host of silver cups of various sizes and shapes, not one alike,'- 

 What was going to happen ? Were the haymakers coming in to ,.' 

 quaff cider from out of these cups ? AVas it the Queen's'. ' 

 birthday? No. AVas some bacchanalian Somersetshire festival', 

 to be celebrated ? AA'ell, I knew not. I was sirre in that well- 

 bred household nothing wi'ong could occiu: — that was my com-r 

 fort. But, oh ! those cups. Time proceeded, the ladies retired, 

 the cool claret was moistening my lips, but curiosity was up- "_ 

 pennost, aud I approached that glittering sideboard. " AAtat- 

 ever are those?" said I. " Only my poultry prizes," was the 

 reply. " Poidtry prizes ! why here are tbe contents of a Mil- 

 som Street silversmith's shop!" I counted the prizes, they 

 numbered about fifty. Silver salvers at the back, then cups o.f..;' 

 all kinds and grades — tail cups, shoi-t cups, slender cups, fai,'' ' 

 cups, plain cups, embossed cups, Grecian-shaped, lioman,'.' 

 mediajval, all shapes ; cups with covers, tankard-likc, cups ' 

 without, and with inscriptions on each and all. Then there 

 was a grand muffineer (that bird was not a muff that won it), also' 

 silver asparagus tongs, cream jug, and — and I know not what '; 

 else. As the new servant girl, a very yovmg one, said to hepr.' 

 mother, after seeing the dinner-table laid out in the dining- ^ 

 room the first day of her service, "Lor me! mother, my eyes'' ' 

 was right daz2led." Among the cups lay also, like nest eggs, a ' 

 number of medals from Birmingham and other shows. AVell, 

 poultry' fanciers, if successful, have something to exhibit to 

 their friends worth showing. , ' .11 ^ ^^i 



After a pleasant evening ^(rbU ' ainong' the hayrii'ak^rs, anid.' ' 

 raising my eyes ever and anon to watch the shadows on tli'e", 

 lovely Jleudips, I retired to rest, and dreamed I was a Spanish' 

 don, with something odd about my ears, which were very wMte 

 — then tliat a great number of medals were htm'g on my breast 

 for distijiguished service — then that I was keeping a silver- 

 smith's shop — then I was bm-ing cases of stuffed birds — theii' 

 I was reading Hannah More's "Life" and tracts — .and then' 

 I di-e;uned that I was the real shepherd of Salisbiuy Plain — 

 and then I awoke and found that I was the real — Wiltshiee 



PiECTOE. 



(To be contiiined.) 



BELFAST POULTEY SHOW. 



(From a Con-cspond^it.) 

 Thb flboT6 Show took plaoe on the 6th and 7th inst. and met with 

 more thau usnal success. The breather with the e:;c«ption of a l^-v,- 



