London to John C? Groat's. 313 



streets. It is a snug and cosy little Saratoga among 

 the hills of Yorkshire, away from the smoke, soot and 

 savor of the great manufacturing centres. It is a 

 favorite resort for a mild class of invalids, and of per- 

 sons who need the medicine of pure air and gentle 

 exercise, blended with the quiet tonics of cheery mirth 

 and recreation. Superadded to all these stimulants, 

 there is a mineral spring at which the visitors, young 

 and old, drink most voluminously. I went down to it 

 in the morning before breakfast, and found it thronged 

 by a multitude of men, women and children, who drank 

 off great goblets of it with astonishing faith and facility. 

 The rotunda was so filled with the fumes of sulphur 

 that I found it more easy to inhale than to imbibe, and 

 preferred to satisfy that sense as to the merits of the 

 water. 



The next day I reached the brave old city of Eipon. 

 On the way I stopped an hour or two at Eipley and 

 visited the castle. The building itself is a good speci- 

 men of the baronial hall of the olden time. But the 

 gardens and grounds constitute its distinguishing fea- 

 ture. I never saw before such an exquisite arrange- 

 ment of flowers, even at Chats worth or the Kew Gardens. 

 All forms imaginable were produced by them. The 

 most extensive and elaborate combination was a row 

 of flower sofas reaching around the garden. Each was 



