2io A Walk from 



Sir Roger Coverley Cromwell, the author of all this 

 entertainment, would make a capital figure in the 

 group, taken just as he looked at that moment, with 

 his face illuminated with the upshooting joy of his 

 heart, like the clear, frosty sky of winter with the 

 glow and the flush of the Northern Lights. 



This good Miller of Houghton, having added stone 

 to stone until his mills can grind all the wheat the 

 largest county can grow, has recently handed over to 

 his sons the great business he had built up to such 

 magnitude, and retired, if possible, to a more active 

 life of benevolence. One of his late benefactions was 

 a gift of 3,000, or nearly $15,000, toward the 

 erection of an Independent Chapel in St. Ives. 



At Huntingdon, I took tea and spent a pleasant 

 hour with the principal of a select school, kept in a 

 large, dignified and comfortable mansion, once occu- 

 pied by the poet Cowper. In the yard behind the 

 house there is a wide-spreading and prolific pear-tree 

 planted by his hands. This, too, was one of the 

 thousands of old, stately dwellings you meet with 

 here and there, which have no beginning nor end that 

 you can get at. Cowper lived and wrote in this, for 

 instance ; but who lived in it a century before he was 

 born ? Who built it ? Which of the Two Eoses did 

 he mount on his arms? Or did he live and build 



