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directed to place me, I could not rest without 
finding something at least to dispel idleness, if 
nothing more,—and when I looked back on the 
happy hours I had spent with my revered relative, 
who was no longer able to search for antiquities, as 
from old age his sight was daily worse, I thought 
it my duty at least to go to the field in which we 
had spent so many happy days, and endeavour to 
procure for him such antiquarian food, as had so 
long delishted his heart, that he might still 
feel with gratification, the produce of my labours. 
I remembered the cheering advice often given to 
me by my late universally respected friend Sir 
Richard Colt Hoare, who said, “Be a spade and 
shovel antiquary, areal working one, or none atall. 
If you will not dive your hand into the earth to 
bring out its treasures, you cannot expect your 
labourers, until they are broken in to feel an interest 
in your pursuits, to do so.” I therefore determined 
upon such a search in the turbaries, as would make 
me fully acquainted with their productions, more 
especially with regard to the mounds. 
I soon found they were a mass of potsherds of 
Roman black ware, and my attention was next di- 
rected to the question— How came they here? My 
labours were soon rewarded, for at the distance of 
a few yards from one of the mounds, I found at 
the depth ofabout eighteen inches, a square plat- 
form formed of clay, around which were several 
pieces of Roman ware, mixed with rude bricks 
