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serviceable. Some good might be done if every boy only 

 learned by heart the two lines of Wordsworth which tell us 



" Never to blend our pleasure or our pride 

 "\Yith sorrow of the meanest thing that feels." 



The reader will have seen that my lane has its attractions 

 in all seasons of the year, and it offers an agreeable walk at 

 all hours of the day. It is pleasant to pass through it when 

 the early morning brings the dew-drops on its dusky wings, 

 and the tremulous stars give place to the rising sun ; when 

 the flowers begin to unfold their delicate petals to his warm 

 embrace, and, led by the lark, the feathered choir unite in 

 a harmonious welcome. Pleasant, too, to walk through it 

 at the hour of noon, under the protecting shade of its leafy 

 hedge. Then nature reposes; the birds are silent; the 

 meek-eyed oxen lie under the trees by the river's side ; and 

 all is still, save the droning of some industrious bee, as it 

 passes from flower to flower. But pleasantest hour of all 



" When conies still evening on, and twilight grey 

 Hath in her sober livery all things clad." 



It is a time for pure and tender emotions. Then the 

 lovely flowers close their petals and droop their heads in 

 meek obeisance ; and the grateful warblers' last evensong 

 falls on the ear with peculiar sweetness. And then a 

 hallowed stillness reigns. Nature is at her devotions. Dim 

 and dimmer becomes the spire of the village church. The 

 ruins of the baronial hall, gloomy at all times, now assume 



