240 WITH THE WOODLANDERS. 



be called out of the world, that might have been. 

 A long narrow lane, with high hedges on each side, 

 led you to the grey-flint-towered church : through 

 the churchyard you passed on to a wood which 

 adjoined it so closely, that the branches of some 

 of the outside trees almost touched the churchyard 

 wall. Through the wood a path led down to the 

 few scattered houses; then came the flats and the 

 tide. 



It was a quiet God's-acre, that daisy-dotted rest- 

 ing-place, for no one visited it except on Sundays. 

 Nothing was to be heard but the jackdaws in the 

 old tower, and the chatter and whistle of the star- 

 lings that built there. The magpies that were very 

 numerous in the district would sit on the wall or 

 gate of the church, and chatter when they heard 

 footsteps ; or walk, with their beautiful tails thrown 

 up, through some of the long grass and tangle that 

 grew there. Great brambles grew by the side of 

 the wall, covered in the season with the finest 

 blackberries that could be found anywhere; but 

 they were never touched except by the birds, for 

 all the traditions connected with that last resting- 

 place were sad ones. The fringe of the wood 



