54 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE 



his round-hand bowling ; and when his eye is in, and 

 he takes to judgmatical cutting and driving, he teaches 

 the panting field the secret of perpetual motion. He 

 is not only the leading member of the club, but its very 

 generous patron, though his kinsman, the squire, is 

 hereditary president. He is the life and soul of the 

 cricketing suppers and the other entertainments he gets 

 up for those who do not care for the willow. He would 

 be the last to rob a poor man of his beer, and is on the 

 best of terms with the village landlord, though he sets 

 his face against anything like excess, and takes care 

 that the merriment of these social meetings shall never 

 degenerate into anything unseemly. He used to shoot 

 at one time, but he has given it up ; and now he con- 

 tents himself with the fishing, to which he is devoutly 

 attached. Not a man in his own or the adjoining 

 parishes can come near him in the delicate skill with 

 which he lures the wary fish out of these still and 

 pellucid waters. But with all his healthy activity and 

 delight in the open air, not the least pleasant of his 

 hours are those he passes in his library. The little 

 room with the great bay-window looking out on the 

 brilliant flower-beds is a marvel of quiet literary luxury, 

 with the well-chosen volumes assorted in the cases and 

 the periodicals and journals that litter the tables. For 

 the rector was a scholar, and took creditable honours, 

 in spite of an early attachment to the cricket-field ; and 

 he was a Fellow of a distinguished college to boot 

 before he was fortunate enough to fall in with his wife. 

 Simply eloquent and pointed as his sermons are, it is 



