Pearson's Xane 



the weeds, with bits of box-bush still struggling to 

 keep alive." 



" And they did well," I added. Why forever 

 stick to straight lines and turn sharp corners, as in 

 Philadelphia streets ? What a pleasing, winding 

 way is even that short path from the kitchen door 

 to the spring-house ! " 



" Spring-house ! Let 's go." And away went 

 the mathematician in a bee-line. 



I followed slowly, and did not wonder at his 

 enthusiasm when I reached the spot. In a lit- 

 tle ravine there rippled a stream of sparkling 

 water, cold as winter, beady as champagne. We 

 could trace in the ruined brick-work where the 

 milk-pans had been placed, and found, beneath 

 a coating of moss and earth, huge slabs of stone 

 that had formed the floor. I began gathering 

 material for a romance, and my companion re- 

 marked, to himself apparently, " This reminds me 

 of lines " 



" Well, boys ! " from the lips of the old tenant, a 

 queer man, but excellent of heart, cut short my 

 meditations and my companion's remark. 



On invitation, and for policy's sake, we fol- 

 lowed the aforesaid tenant to the house. Halting 

 on the door-step, I asked permission to explore 

 the cellar. 



" You '11 break your neck in the rubbish, for it 's 

 black as night down there ; but you can go, of 

 course." 



189 



