THE SQUIRE ROOKS. 83 



mother England ! It would be strange if I were not affected at 

 meeting thee at last face to face. 



I dressed, and worked my way through the dark, crooked stairs 

 to the kitchen, where, on the bright steel fender, I found my 

 shoes dry and polished. I walked through the single short street 

 of the hamlet. The houses were set closely together, with neat 

 little gardens about them. They were of every age; one I 

 noticed marked with the date 1630 about the time of the first 

 settlement in Connecticut. It was of stone, narrow, with a steep 

 roof covered with very small slates. The windows were much 

 wider than high, and filled with little panes of glass set in strips 

 of lead. Except in this and the materials of which it was built, 

 it was not unlike some of the oldest houses that we yet see in our 

 first Puritan villages, as Hadley and Wethersfield. At the other 

 end of the hamlet was another inn " The Blue Lion," I believe, 

 and a tall hostler opening the stable doors was dressed just as I 

 wanted to see him -jockey-cap, long striped waistcoat, breeches, 

 and boots. 



As I returned, I saw the farmer who had been at the inn the 

 night before, and asked him to let me see his cows. He said 

 they were coming down the lane, and if I went with him I should 

 meet them. Passing a group of well-built, neat, low buildings, 

 he said they were the Squire's kennels. They were intended for 

 greyhounds, but he had his pointers in them now. 



" The Squire's ! But where's the Squire's house ? " 



" Ton's the Hall," pointing to a distant group of trees, above 

 which a light smoke was rising straight up in the calm air, and a 

 number of large black birds were rapidly rising and falling. 

 " Yon's the Hall ; ye see the rooks." 



" The rooks ! Then those are rooks, are they ? " 



" Ay, be they ; rooks do ye not know what rooks be ? " 



" Yes, but we don't have them in America." 



