64 BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 



night, and enjoy that delicious slumber in a snowy bed which can 

 only be enjoyed at a country inn in the land of blackberries.* 



The mornings are grey and misty at Blackberry time, so before 

 venturing on the great expedition before us, let us be internally forti- 

 fied with a good breakfast. The fragrant coffee tickles the sense until 

 the nose seems to laugh at the conceit, and the palate, beguiled by the 

 bland richness of the fresh butter and new-laid eggs, threatens to for- 

 get the anticipations of more Blackberries. 



We are away at last, upon the roadside, gathering as we go from 

 the brambles that skirt the pathways. Away with conventionalities ; 

 fling away the books ; and let us for the present live for Blackberries. 

 The beri'ies are as black as death, and as delicious as the first kiss of a 

 fond lover. There they hang like sugary showers of healing and 

 delectable manna; hatless, on tiptoe, forgetting drawing-room and 

 parlour courtesy, scorning etiquette and the doctrine of appearances, 

 and like children in our aboriginal wildness, we gather and eat, we 

 eat and gather. Satisfied, we walk on, and take the path to the left, 

 which leads to " Newgate §treet " and " Little Berkhampstead." The 

 country, with its woody hills and miles and miles of wheatlands, 

 turnip -fields, and meadows, swells grandly around us. There are 

 copses and forests of pine stems ; broad fields of cruciferous blossoms 

 glowing like golden seas with ripples and billows of amber. Up above 

 lie the woods ; and the partridges and pheasants whirr away in heavy 

 flight to shelter. The toil up-hill has cooled our energies, so we step 

 in here to a small roadside inn, and seated in the only public room, 

 which serves as kitchen, pantry, and public parlour, regale ourselves 

 with a sweet draught of " Prior's Entire." Here are eight houses and 

 a mud cabin, backed on one side by the splendid park of Squire Ellis, 

 flanked to the left with the richly wooded hills, through which the 

 road rises and falls like an undulating line of foam upon a dark green 

 sea of rolling billows; behind lies the valley we have just left, 



* Goffe's Oak stands on Cheshunt Common, overlooking the ancient lands of 

 Guffley, and commanding a splendid panorama of hill country heyond. The 

 tiee from which the inn takes its name, is an ancient oak planted in the reign of 

 William the Conqueror, and which is now a hollow ruin, though still bearing a 

 head of foliage. The inn is one of the best samples which remain of the " Good 

 Old Time," and still preserves the English characteristics of female beauty, 

 domestic comfort, and hearty good cheer. 



