THE OLD FARMHOUSE. 3 



of my hair, and my former ability to spring 

 over a five-barred gate no longer exists. 



" Nought cared this body for wind and weather, 

 When youth and I were in it together ! " 



There may be something of a melancholy as 

 well as a charming side to this picture 



" A neighb'ring wood born with himself he sees, 

 And loves his old contemporary trees." 



The melancholy side would be the remem- 

 brance of what I was when I first knew these 

 trees and that old farmhouse, and those with 

 whom I had known them 



"This fond attachment to the well-known place 

 Whence first we started into life's long race, 

 Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway, 

 We feel it even in age and at our latest day." 



I am becoming sentimental ; the con- 

 templation of a holiday should make one 

 grow glad rather than sad. My object in 

 going to that old farmhouse was not to brood 

 over the days that are past, or to recall the 

 " old familiar faces " that now mostly sleep in 

 the old churchyard, but to go a-fishing in 

 "The Teme," or "The Arrow," or "The 

 Lugg." 



One's boyish remembrances of the most 

 pleasant times are most vivid ; and it is 

 pleasant to forget the disagreeable ones. 



