BOYHOOD. 21 



they mounted and cantered a mile or two beyond the 

 pedestrians, and so in turn till we reached our 

 journey's end. 



In those good old Christmas holidays, which lasted 

 for six weeks, the atmosphere was always bright and 

 bracing, the roads always hard with frost, the hills and 

 fields covered with snow ; ponds and lakes were always 

 frozen, and we had pleasant times. We also visited an 

 old uncle and aunt of my father's, and there we had 

 our grandest revels, for there were two grandsons and 

 two granddaughters of our own age. 



They dwelt in an old manor house, and nothing 

 pleased the old gentleman more than to have a 

 houseful of youngsters about him. There was an 

 ancient hall connected with the house large enouh 

 to hold fifty, or perhaps a hundred young folks, where 

 we danced, and played all sorts of games "blind- 

 man's buff," "turn the trencher," "egg in the hat," 

 "drop the glove," and others I cannot recall. My 

 great-aunt was a wonderful little woman. I remember 

 well her mob-cap, rosy cheeks, and happy, cheerful, 

 chirpy ways, above all, her delicious mince-pies. She 

 lived to be ninety, and as she died about the year 

 1840, she must have been born 146 years ago about 

 1750. I remember seeing in this hall, hung over 

 the wide fireplace, a plaited thorn which had been 

 blackened over a fire made at midnight out in the 

 fields, about the time of the young wheat just coming 

 out of the ground, by the servants with, I fancy, some 

 sort of incantation. Then it was brought in with 

 much ceremony, and hung up in this place, where it 

 remained for a year, when it was burnt, and the same 



