306 AN AMERICAN FARMER IN ENGLAND. 



flock, bounding from head to head, sprang the dog, yelping 

 sharply as he reached the road ; the truants returned, and the 

 whole flock broke at once into a hard run the dog dashing first 

 one way, then the other, closing them rapidly up, and keeping 

 them in a dense mass, until, at another shout from the shepherd, 

 who had not risen, all at once halted, and, turning heads out, went 

 to feeding, soon closing about the dog, leaving only a space of a 

 few feet vacant around him. The dogs used by most of the shep- 

 herds seem to be mongrels, generally low in the legs, with great 

 heads, short necks, and rather shaggy. One that was said to be 

 very sagacious and well-trained, and for which I was asked thirty 

 dollars, appeared as if a cross of a spaniel with a terrier. Gen- 

 erally, the dogs were valued at only from two to five dollars. 



It cleared about noon ; and after the rain ceased the air was 

 calm, hot, and steamy. I recollect but one village, two rows of 

 ugly, glaring, red brick houses, relieved by a church, rectory, and 

 two other buildings, cool and pleasing, under shade of ivy ; and 

 a large, old establishment, with cupalo and clock, and a square, 

 green, shady court in front of it devoted, as appeared by an 

 inscription on its front, by somebody's bequest two hundred years 

 ago, to the maintenance, in comfort, of a certain number of aged 

 widowers and bachelors of the parish. Such retreats, for various 

 denominations of the poor and unfortunate, called almshouses and 

 hospitals (vulgarly, "'spittals"), are to be seen in almost every 

 town in England. They are of all degrees of comfort some 

 stately and luxurious others, and these quite common, mere 

 cottages hovels sometimes generally very old, and nearly 

 always of ancient foundation. With more or less ostentation, the 

 name of the founder is displayed on the front sometimes with 

 his bust, statue, arms, or a ridiculous allegorical sculpture. This 

 plan for sending a dying sinner's name down to future genera- 

 tions, with the grateful embalmment of charity, seems latterly out 



