London to John O' Groat's. 253 



and thought they would pass muster and please the 

 master. Then they shouldered their brightened tools 

 and went home to their low, dark cottages, discussing 

 the prices of bread, beer and bacon, and whether the 

 likes of them could manage to keep a pig and make 

 a little meat in the year for themselves. 



That is the story of this most magnificent structure 

 to which you look up with such admiration. Those 

 two men in smock frocks, each with a pocket full of 

 bread and cheese, were the Michael Angelos of this 

 lofty St. Peter's. That donkey, with its worn panniers, 

 was the only witness and helper of their work. And 

 it was the work of a day ! They may have been 

 paid two English shillings for it. The little trees 

 may have cost two shillings more, if taken from 

 another estate. The donkey's day was worth six- 

 pence. 0, wooden-shoed Ptolemies ! what a clay's 

 work was that for the world ! They thought nothing 

 of it nothing more than they would of transplanting 

 sixty cabbages. They most likely did the same thing 

 the next day, and for most of the days of that year, 

 and of the next year, until all these undulating acres 

 were planted with trees of every kind that could grow 

 in these latitudes. How cheap, but priceless, is the 

 gift of such trees to mankind ! What a wealth, what 

 a glory of them can even a poor, laboring man give to 



