98 
That was the only instance, he said, of a lion attacking him in 
the day-time ; adding that his experience of them convinced him that 
they were perfect cowards. In reply to a question as to whether they 
gave tongue when hunting, he remarked that the lion only gave 
utterance to two cries. They were a low soughing sound, oné when 
he was in quest of food and the other when he was returning to his 
lair satisfied ; they were similar, but easily distinguished on ac- 
quaintanceship with him, ; 
In the corner stood the gun which served him in such good stead 
on many a critical occasion—a fine double-barrelled rifle, which Sir 
Samuel Baker borrowed of Mr. Oswell during one of his recent 
campaigns. 
After partaking of refreshments the party left Hill-side for Glen 
Andred, the picturesque residence of Mr. E. W. Cooke, R.A., touching 
on their way the church at Groombridge, a small structure, built by 
Thomas Parker, the father of the gentleman who built Groombridge 
Place. In the churchyard is an ancient tree, which tradition says was 
planted by a despairing lover of Cecily Nevill, Duchess of York, 
afterwards mother of Richard III. In the church is a peculiar coin- 
cidence. Painted on the coloured glass are the arms of the Duke of 
Orleans already referred to, upon whom the Battle of Agincourt 
brought such disaster ; and on one of the memorial slabs let into the wall 
is recorded the demise of the wife of Rear-Admiral Eardly-Wilmot, 
the present commander of the iron-clad Agincourt. 
Mr. Cooke was sketching in the Isle of Wight; and as Miss 
Cooke was dangerously ill the party were unable to thoroughly inspect 
the wealth and beauty which is treasured up in the house. The lower 
rooms, however, were thrown open for their inspection, and all gladly 
availed themselves of the privilege of looking over Mr. Cooke’s 
exceptionally choice and varied museum of articles of vertu, curiosi- 
ties of all kinds, and his splendid collection of paintings in oil and 
water-colours. Time would permit of only a hasty stroll through the 
grounds, but it was sufficient to give some idea of their remarkable 
beauty and picturesqueness. They owe this to the masses of Tunbridge 
Wells sandstone, beautiful in themselves, but rendered far more 
beautiful by the artistic manner in which they had been surrounded 
by ferns and other plants. 
Driving back to the station, the party devoted the remaining time 
