HOP-GARDENS AND FARMING 77 



the blue vault of heaven overhead, where the stars are 

 faintly sparkling at noonday. A door behind opens 

 into the dairy, with its fragrant odours of butter and 

 cream ; opposite is the living-room, so called, lucus a 

 non lucendo, because it is only occupied on state occa- 

 sions, when christenings, weddings, or funerals are 

 going forward. Another straight, easy flight of steps 

 slopes gently down to the cellar accommodation, where 

 hogsheads of home-brewed may be stowed away by the 

 score ; and it is not impossible that the staircase which 

 leads to the upper storeys may be an absolute master- 

 piece of quaintly-carved oak. Indeed, not a few of 

 these farms have been manor-houses in their time ; and 

 even on those that never had loftier pretensions than at 

 present, you read dates that carry them back to the 

 civil wars, or possibly to the times of the Tudors. 



Without, there is an air of ease and plenty, although 

 sometimes, on more narrow inspection, it proves falla- 

 cious. But usually there are well-conditioned cattle 

 placidly ruminating up to the hocks in the loose layers 

 of bright yellow wheat-straw. Sleek calves are penned 

 behind hurdles in the corners of the surrounding sheds ; 

 fat black Hampshire hogs are grunting and grubbing 

 among the fodder, or are reposing their corpulent 

 forms in a sublime luxury of laziness. Great flocks of 

 plump poultry and waddling troops of white Aylesbury 

 ducks come crowding forward to your footfall in hopes 

 of a shower of grain ; while the flights of pigeons are 

 circling in the air, or settling down upon the shelves 

 before their holes in the barn gable. Behind are 



