THE MOUNT 271 



possessions, in our eyes of quite infinite 

 value. 



Then homeward again by Hartford Bridge 

 and the old " White Lion" posting inn, with 

 its memories of George III., and the Prince 

 Regent, and the forty coaches each way that 

 stopped to change horses on their journey 

 between London and Southampton, and the 

 terrible end of the old ostler, who cut his 

 throat on the day the London and South- 

 Western Railway was opened. Then up the 

 long, beautiful Star Hill, where 'the flowers 

 in the cottage gardens are always a week 

 earlier than anywhere else in the neighbour- 

 hood ; and over the great heather - clad 

 stretches of Hartford-bridge Flats, and down 

 Brick House Hill past the Mount to the 

 Rectory, to recount our adventures and dis- 

 play our treasures. 



An ancient Yew tree a real " Bow Yew," 

 carpeted beneath with small double purple 

 Periwinkles and a slight hedge of Laburnum, 

 Hollies, Lilac, and Syringa, divided the 



