WAY-SIDE HINTS 



of public taste — in these times, when old vil- 

 lages are disembowelled by the railway, and all 

 their showiness turned inside out, there seems 

 very little regard paid to the observation of 

 that larger public which is hurtling by every 

 day in the cars. 



The former traveller along the high-road, 

 was cautiously placated with orderly palings, 

 neat door-yards, an array of grass and flovv^er- 

 ing shrubs, with a church in imposing posi- 

 tion; but the larger public that now visits 

 the locality is greeted with a terrific array 

 of backsides, of lumbering stys, disorderly 

 fences, and no token that the village world is 

 cognizant of their presence, or careful of their 

 judgment. Of course, the habit of villagers' 

 life cannot be changed so quickly as a railway 

 cutting is made— the new world of progress 

 may be upon them before they are aware; but 

 when actually present, why not meet it with 

 something of the old tidiness and pride? 



Can any rural philosopher explain us this 

 matter? Does the whirl of the world into 

 sudden sight of all our disorderly domestic- 

 ity, break up self-respect, and weaken faith in 

 appearances ? 



Here, and there indeed, I observe one who 

 newly paints his rear door, and trims his 



