176 IN THE GREEN LEAF 



is where the woods slope down to the moor. 

 Good roads have been made, that never have 

 water lying on them, even in the wettest 

 seasons. With the exception of the spot where 

 the ground had been levelled for the house 

 itself, the rest had been left in a state ot 

 nature ; but plants and flowers from other 

 lands had replaced those that once grew there. 

 So cleverly has all this been done that it looks 

 part and parcel of the district fenced in. The 

 rill that once trickled through now forms a 

 pond filled with white water-lilies ; a rustic 

 bridge of twisted and gnarled oak branches 

 reaches from one bank to another over the 

 pond ; it is strong and solid, but the bridge 

 looks as if a dozen axe-men had thrown it 

 over in the course of a day. Fruit and vege- 

 table gardens, forcing -houses, and pit -lights 

 are all there in perfection and abundance 

 a dwelling-place and a garden in what was 

 once a reeking snipe-haunt. 



So far as seclusion goes, it is as quiet and 

 out-of-the-way as it ever has been. If we had 

 not followed the road up, we should not have 

 known such a beautiful place existed. It 

 caused me to go a couple of miles out of my 

 way, but I felt well repaid in seeing what 



