DEVON LANES AND THEIR ASSOCIATIONS. II 



the land. In some such mood do the Latin poets look back 

 with reverence on the austere virtues of the Sabine dames, who 

 dismissed their husbands to work in the fields while they ruled 

 the house and spun quietly at home. Doubtless the Devon 

 swains are duly grateful as they see the pearly berries littering 

 the stations on the Great Western, that their lines have fallen 

 upon more osculatory days. 



If the Devon lanes are fair in summer, fairer in autumn, and 

 not without a certain loveliness in winter, in spring they are 

 simply radiant with beauty. Let us breast yonder hill with 

 April's sunshine fleeting in vast sheets of splendour over the 

 heather. The lanes are rather intricate, and if a damp place 

 here and there speaks of spring-showers, you will often recover 

 your equanimity by finding some rare plant, such as the pretty 

 little pinguicola Lusitanica. On these spangled banks, all the 

 wild-flowers of the West seem following the example of the hares, 

 and running riot over mossy cushions and ivy-clad stumps. 

 But we are out of the lanes now, and with just one look from 

 the hill-side, plunge into the glades on the other side, and soon 

 reach my favourite grange. 



Can anything be more spring-like than those whitewashed 

 cob-walls covered with roses ? Through the " barton," past 

 the Alderneys, looking so well pleased with their lot, we will 

 approach the house. The entrance is very massive and low. 

 Follow me through the flagged passage to the parlour. Here is 

 our hostess, with the heartiest of welcome to sit down and rest 

 after our ramble. And now Lucy comes in, with the fair hair 

 and blue eyes of the West, like her mother, " on hospitable 

 cares intent." What will we have? New milk? cider? 

 cream ? Take my advice, and choose the latter. Here it is 

 in a lordly dish, mantled with gold and redolent (as good 

 Devonshire cream should be) of wood ashes. Lucy will pile 

 you up a platter of it, with plenty of preserved " mazzards " 

 (wild cherries), and if you have not enjoyed your ramble 



