IN " THE GOOD OLD TIMES." 107 



plants that love to fix themselves on ancient brick- 

 work, grew there in luxuriance. As for the brick- 

 work itself, it was all weather-beaten and stained 

 in greys and browns, varied by the vegetable growth, 

 the whole showing a scale of colouring that would 

 drive an inferior artist wild. For the true painter 

 it was a mine of wealth, so far as rich broken tones 

 were concerned. 



Day after day a friend of my younger days stood 

 near the old house, adding touch to touch, with 

 skilful hand, on his canvas. I am glad to say that 

 his picture was afterwards hung on the walls at 

 Burlington House, and that it attracted much notice 

 there. 



Changes have come some say for the better 

 but we are not all carried away, thank God ! by 

 those interested agitators who, in their crass igno- 

 rance, speak of our true agricultural population as 

 if they were down-trodden serfs. Ranting, empty- 

 headed windbags these intruding strangers have 

 been called by some of us rural folk. In past times, 

 at any rate, there was a stubborn spirit of inde- 

 pendence among the genuine sons of the soil that 

 forbade oppression and resented interference. The 



