WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 7 



open, and on the threshold stood the Keverend 

 Mr. Storey — a fiery, frightful, formidable spectre! 

 To my horror and confusion I drove my foot quite 

 through a pane of glass, and there I stuck, im- 

 paled and imprisoned, but luckily not injured by 

 the broken glass. Whilst I was thus in unex- 

 pected captivity, he cried out, in an angry voice, 

 *So you are there, Master Charles, are youT He 

 got assistance, and they pulled me back by main 

 force. But as this was Palm Sunday my exe- 

 cution was obligingly deferred until Monday 

 morning. 



''But let us return to Tudhoe. In my time it 

 was a peaceful, healthy farming village, and 

 abounded in local curiosities. Just on the king's 

 highway, betwixt Durham and Bishop- Auckland, 

 and one field from the school, there stood a public- 

 house called the 'White Horse,' and kept by a 

 man of the name of Charlton. He had a real 

 gaunt English mastiff, half-starved for want of 

 food, and so ferocious that nobody but himself 

 dared to approach it. This publican had also a 

 mare, surprising in her progeny; she had three 

 foals, in three successive years, not one of which 

 had the least appearance of a tail. 



"One of Mr. Storey's powdered wigs was of so 

 tempting an aspect, on the shelf where it was laid 

 up in ordinary, that the cat actually kittened in 

 it. I saw her and her little ones all together in 

 the warm wig. He also kept a little white and 

 black bitch, apparently of King Charles's breed. 

 One evening, as we scholars were returning from 

 a walk, Chloe started a hare, which we surrounded 

 and captured, and carried in triumph to oily 



