CHAPTER XXIX. 



LINES 



SUGGESTED by a visit to Jack Babbage, aged eighty 

 years, formerly the noted huntsman of the Devon and 

 Somerset Staghounds, and his "auld wife/' Jean, 

 now pensioners, spending the evening of their days on 

 the estate of J. Froude Bellew, Esq., at Rhyll, in close 

 vicinity to the wild heather- clad range of hills known 

 as Hawkridge. 



The stars shone bright 



That lovely night, 

 When roaming through the heather; 



We, nothing loath, 



Then plighted troth, 

 To live and love together. 



Now many a day 



Has passed away 

 Since first in summer weather, 



Through emerald glade 



And woodland shade, 

 We loitered in the heather. 



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