MELLOW ENGLAND. 189 



I spent a delicious October day wandering through 

 Bushy Park and looking with covetous, though ad- 

 miring eyes upon the vast herds of deer that dotted 

 the plains or gave way before me as I entered the 

 woods. There seemed literally to be many thou- 

 sands of these beautiful animals in this park, and the 

 loud, hankering sounds of the bucks, as they pursued 

 or circled around the does, was a new sound to my 

 ears. The rabbits and pheasants also were objects of 

 the liveliest interest to me, and I found that after all 

 a good shot at them with the eye, especially when I 

 could credit myself with alertness or stealthiness, was 

 satisfaction enough. 



I thought it worthy of note that though these great 

 parks in and about London were so free and appar- 

 ently without any police regulations whatever, yet I 

 never saw prowling about them any of those vicious, 

 ruffianly looking characters that generally infest the 

 neighborhood of our great cities, especially of a Sun- 

 day. There were troops of boys, but they were as- 

 tonishingly quiet and innoxious, very unlike American 

 boys, white or black, a band of whom making excur- 

 sions into the country are always a band of outlaws. 

 Ruffianism with us is no doubt much more brazen and 

 pronounced, not merely because the law is lax, but 

 because such is the genius of the people. 



