234 AN OCTOBER ABROAD. 



with a dense hoar-frost. The great church, as I ap- 

 proached it, loomed up under the sun through a bank 

 of blue mist. The Avon was like glass, with little 

 wraiths of vapor clinging here and there to its sur- 

 face. Two white swans stood on its banks in front 

 of the church, and, without regarding the mirror that 

 so drew my eye, preened their plumage ; while farther 

 up, a piebald cow reached down for some grass under 

 the brink where the frost had not settled, and a pie- 

 bald cow in the river reached up for the same morsel. 

 Rooks and crows and jackdaws were noisy in the 

 trees overhead and about the church spire. I stood 

 a long while musing upon the scene. 



At the birthplace of the poet, the keeper, an elderly 

 woman, shivered with cold as she showed me about. 

 The primitive, home-made appearance of things, the 

 stone floor much worn and broken, the rude oak 

 beams and doors, the leaden sash with the little win- 

 dow panes scratched full of names, among others that 

 of Walter Scott, the great chimneys where quite a 

 family could literally sit in the chimney corner, etc., 

 were what I expected to see, and looked very humao 

 Knd good. It is impossible to associate anything bu* 

 sterling qualities and simple, healthful character* 

 with these early English birthplaces. They are nests 

 built with faithfulness and affection, and through them 

 tne seems to get a glimpse of devouter, sturdier 

 times. 



From Stratford I went back to Warwick, thence 

 to Birmingham, thence to Shrewsbury, thence to 



