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KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 211 
that graced that board—but no, we will not 
attempt it. Yet let us immortalise the cook. 
Never surely was there a mattress de cuisine 
more au fart at her duties. Everything that 
came from her hand was alluringly seductive ; 
so tempting, that to say “No,” was impos- 
sible. This, as regarded the provisions for 
every meal. Dinner was, however, of course, 
her chef d’auvre. 
It is impossible, within our prescribed 
limits, to enter into many minutie connected 
with a beautiful spot like this. Much must 
be left to imagination. At the extreme end 
of the garden, reached by walking down 
a very long and broad gravel walk—some- 
thing “like” a promenade, this! was a 
detached piece of turfed ground—a kind of 
slip cut off from the rest, and enclosed on 
either side by a long hedge. ‘This was 
planted out with a centre bed of choice 
roses, and other plants on the several sides; 
and was entered by a gate opening from the 
gravel walk. 
The object of having this set apart from 
the garden was, to obtain an extensive view of 
the adjoining country. The ground, level on 
entering, rises gradually upwards towards 
the summit, where is planted a very old, 
large, tall, and overspreading tree. Beneath 
this, extending all round the trunk, isa seat ; 
whence can be enjoyed scenes of surpassing 
beauty. 
This little Paradise is very appropriately 
christened “The Mount.” We distinctly 
saw from it Hursley Church (where the Rev. 
Mr. Keble officiates), Ampfield Church, 
Romsey Church, Furley Church, Chilworth 
Church; as also the extensive and beautiful 
grounds of Sir William Heathcoate, Squire 
Chamberlayne, &c., &c.; and last (and least) 
the ancient little church of Baddesley, whose 
amiable minister, the Rey. James Davies, it 
was our good fortune to fall in with during 
our rambling excursion. We sincerely hope 
to meet him again. Standing on this mount, 
we saw the harvest- moon rise from her bed of 
sleep—a glorious sight! 
We have said nothing about the sheep, 
cows, fowls, &c., &c., on the estate; but we 
paid them all a visit in turn, and admired 
them greatly. Such paddocks, such meadows, 
such pasture !—and all the live stock happy ! 
Oh, for a country life! sighed we. 
We have purposely refrained from noticing 
the ‘‘ domestic pets ” in-doors ; consisting of 
a remarkable sky-lark, and a remarkable 
chaffinch. These will have honor done to 
them in a separate chapter. As for the birds 
out-of-doors, there seemed no end to them! 
There were starlings in great abundance, 
goldfinckes and linnets out of number; also 
robins and chaffinches without end. These 
two last tribes come close to the hezse to be 
fed, and are singularly tame. ‘The fair hands 

which minister to them, deserve all the 
homage they receive.* The affection, we 
must say, is equally divided. ‘ Happy fami- 
lies” are they all! As for the grey-wagtails, 
they come immediately under the window ; 
and by their merry note and diverting ac- 
tivity, procure themselves many a dainty 
meal. ‘They are indeed most loveable little 
creatures. But we are warned to be brief. 
We will close this account of our ramble by 
a description of Baddesley Church, to which 
we paid a visit ere our return home. 
We are unable to give the date when this 
curious little church was built ; but it is evi- 
dently very ancient. It is about seven miles 
distant from Southampton; and will hold, 
perhaps, closely packed, some hundred 
people. Every part of it is worm-eaten, 
from the pews to the altar-table. The great 
chest, too, containing the parish records, and 
other valuables—that is worm-eaten. The 
pulpit is worm-eaten—the clerk’s desk is 
worm-eaten — the singers’ table in the 
gallery is worm-eaten. The worms have it 
all their own way. The font, too, is worm- 
eaten. A curiosity is this font; the person 
who made it, was very careful not to infringe 
upon the “second commandment.” 
We understand the “music” discoursed 
here on Sabbath days is remarkable—of its 
kind. The wind instruments are sui generis. 
We saw, in the “ music gallery,” what the 
‘principal instrumental performer”’ calls a 
“bassoon.”’ We should have called it the 
hind leg (dislocated) of some ancient horsepast 
work. We imagine this and the accompani- 
ments must awaken in a stranger “ impres- 
sions ” he would not readily forget. We did 
not pass a Sunday in the neighborhood; 
otherwise, our curiosity would assuredly have 
directed our steps thitherward. 
We found out here, the meaning of the 
words “poor as a church mouse.” In one 
corner, high in air, there were the ghosts of 
two mutton dips. 
One evening last Christmas, it appears, 
the ‘‘musicians’’ were in grand rehearsal. 
Two dips were, on that occasion, mounted 
on iron nails driven into the end of a small 
piece of wood. ‘The rehearsal over, they 
* Our readers will remember a very graphic 
account, given by “‘ Heartsease, Hants,” of a pair 
of tame robins that had twice laid, sat, and 
hatched their little families in an inverted flower- 
pot, carelessly thrown into a hedge. This flower- 
pot had been allowed to remain in statu quo, in 
order that we might see it. We listened with 
delight to the little tale connected with this singu- 
larly-chosen cradle ; nor could we but admire the 
tameness and affection of those birds, which per- 
mitted so many familiarities to pass while they 
were incubating and feeding their children. The 
garden is full of these, and other pets—all so 
tame! 

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