THE VICARAGE. 287 



son on his future prospects in life, while the 

 happy mother occasionally raised her eyes from 

 her worsted- work to gaze on the assembled group; 

 or mentioned some little village anecdote, which 

 she had picked up in her morning, stroll. 



At nine o'clock supper was announced; that 

 hospitable meal which is now, alas ! so seldom to 

 be met with. Who, however, does not delight in 

 those nodes ccenaque, to which, in the good old 

 times of our forefathers, neighbours were invited, 

 and partook of a repast at which harmless jests 

 and a social glass amply made up for the more 

 expensive late dinners of modern times. On these 

 occasions the heart expands with feelings of kind- 

 ness and good- will to each other ; and so it was 

 with the party at the vicarage. There was that 

 delightful cheerfulness and hilarity, which is gene- 

 rally to be met with in a family united together by 

 love and affection. The Vicar called Lucy to his 

 side, and, in a half whisper, asked her to sing his 

 favourite song " On the Daffodil." Lucy looked 

 at Mr. Davenport, and then at her father, with 

 somewhat of a distressed countenance, but upon 

 the request being repeated, she leant on the back 

 of his chair, and holding down her head a little, 

 she sang the following verses ; which, as they are 

 not generally known, may not be unacceptable to 

 the lovers of ancient poetry. 



