136 With the Nightingales at the Vicarage. 



eye-range, and by contrast seems to add to the sense of 

 repose, serenity and retirement. 



On the boundaries 

 of our parish, to the 

 east and to the west, 

 there are low swel- 

 ling hills, crested with 

 trees nicely dotted 

 in ; and along the 

 slopes of one of these 

 lies a wood in which 

 it is my delight to 

 stroll, or to he and 

 realise at mid-day the 

 sense of that Pan-like 

 silence which the ancients fabled to haunt the noon-day 

 woods when Pan was abroad. 



In the centre of our district the ground is flat, but 

 fertile ; and the meadows are lush, and, in the season, 

 bright with buttercups and cowslips. 



So far as respects tree-planting, the Vicarage is, as 

 perhaps it ought to be, the bright spot of the parish. 

 Art and nature have combined to beautify it. In 

 former days some of the incumbents were great arbori- 

 culturists — one of them, indeed, went to the East with 

 the idea, solely or mainly, of adding to the store of 

 choice exotics, and in one or two cases he succeeded. 

 The present vicar rejoices in their labours, and has 

 added worthily his own quota to theirs. You might 

 wander a good way before you came on grounds where, 

 in the words of good old George Herbert, you would 

 find more riches in little room. 



The house, somewhat low and angular, lies as it 

 were in the corner of a miniature park ; trellised 



