HEREFORDSHIRE. 5 



felicity did not exist then, or do not now ; 

 but things are not always in this happy state, 

 and I am sorry to be obliged to record that 

 my present visit has by no means realized my 

 dream. Romance has given way to reality ; 

 the weather has been dead against me. I 

 came down here with the intention of blessing 

 those charming scenes and streams ; but I 

 cannot do it my week's experiences do not 

 justify a benediction. 



I took train at Slough on Monday morning, 

 and travelled via Gloucester and Hereford. 

 I wanted to see how Herefordshire looks now 

 that it is ploughed up by railways in every 

 direction. In my time no railway had dared 

 to approach it. Then old Dick Morris used 

 to drive a slow-and-sure four-horse coach 

 from Hereford to Leominster and back, over 

 Dinmore Hill. Dick was a real specimen of 

 a coachman, and weighed twenty-five stone. 

 Now the train cuts through Dinmore Hill, 

 and one only catches glimpses of the sur- 

 rounding country as it dashes along. 



The weather had been fine and genial 

 until I left the train at Kingsland to take a 

 ten-mile drive across country to the old farm- 

 house which was to be my headquarters for 

 a week. As we approached the hills in 

 whose midst this pleasant old homestead 



