44 THE DANDELION. 



ruins — such as I used to visit in my child- 

 hood, on the verge of a wild common, be- 

 girt with beech woods. The walls were 

 covered with a luxuriant drapery of ivy, 

 and the broken pavement with a profu- 

 sion of dandelions, which seemed as if 

 they strove to give a character of cheerful- 

 ness to the lonely spot, for they sprang 

 among huge docks and tufts of rank grass, 

 where immense elder-bushes intercepted the 

 cheerful sunbeams, when they sought to find 

 an entrance. The history of the decayed, 

 but once stately fabric, seemed unknown : 

 no "one could tell even concerning its in- 

 habitants. Its large gable ends, and oriel 

 windows, were constructed according to the 

 improved style of architecture, which ge- 

 nerally prevailed in country mansions dur- 

 ing the reign of Ehzabeth ; and yet there 

 was a character of strength and of se- 

 curity about the building, which indi- 



