Pleasures of Walking. 53 



and the hundreds of England's wild beauties with 



" quaint enamell'd eyes, 

 That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 

 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers." 



Many a time was Perry instructed to w^ait for us 

 at the foot of the hill, or a mile or two in advance, 

 while we spent the happy intervals in examining still 

 closer than it was possible to do while driving the 

 beauties which captivated us at every turn. The pleas- 

 ures of walking set against those of coaching might 

 well furnish matter for an evening's debate. Combined, 

 as they were with us, the result was perfection, for they 

 are indeed upon such a tour the complement of each 

 other. If ever weary of the coach — which we never 

 were — nothing like a walk along the hedge-rows as a 

 substitute, with many a run into out-of-the-way paths, 

 which tempted us by their loveliness, and many a 

 minute stolen to explore the windings of the brooks 

 we passed. I often felt that one of the prettiest 

 pictures I had ever seen was that of our own party 

 scattered about some bosky dell in the way I have de- 

 scribed, while the towering coach-and-four stood out 

 clear against the sky upon the hilltop, waiting for us 

 to tear ourselves away from scenes among which we 

 would linger till the daylight had passed. Let no one 

 fail while coaching to work this mine of pure happi- 

 ness to the full. 



