8 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR 



bad a plight as was poor Ophelia in the willow-tree, when the 

 'envious sliver broke.' The ancient housekeeper mentioned in 

 the account of the barn-owl had cast her rambling eye upon me. 

 Seeing the danger I was in, she went and fetched a piece of ginger- 

 bread, with which she lured me down, and then she seized me as 

 though I had been a malefactor. 



" At nine years old, I was sent to a school in the North of Eng- 

 land, where literature had scarcely any effect upon me, although it 

 was duly administered in large doses by a very scientific hand. But 

 I made vast proficiency in the art of finding birds' nests. It was 

 judged necessary by the master of the school to repress this inordin- 

 ate relish for ornithological architecture, which, in his estimation, 

 could be productive of no good. Accordingly, the birch-rod was 

 brought to bear upon me when occasion offered; but the warm 

 application of it, in lieu of effacing my ruling passion, did but tend 

 to render it more distinct and clear. Thus are bright colours in 

 crockeryware made permanent by the action of fire ; thus is dough 

 turned into crust by submitting it to the oven's heat." 



The childhood of our naturalist was spent at Walton Hall. He 

 had a sister of whom he was very fond, and they passed many 

 " sweet childish days " in the meadows and under the trees of Wal- 

 ton. Their sports, and their converse were no doubt not unlike those 

 of another true lover of nature : 



" Oh ! pleasant, pleasant were the days, 

 The time when, in our childish plays, 

 My sister Emmeline and I 

 Together chased the butterfly ! 

 A very hunter did I rush 

 Upon the prey : with leaps and springs 

 I followed on from brake to bush; 

 But she, God love her ! feared to brush 

 The dust from off its wings." * 



One day an incident occurred which is worth mentioning, because it 

 shows how an unpleasant impression, received at a very early period, 

 may permanently reverse the natural tastes of man. The merry 



* Wordsworth. 



