28a 
BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 
feat which we then considered as of the first order, so 
much strength of arm and skill in aiming did it require. 
Whenever we now make a sojourn to our native subur¬ 
ban district of Stepney (it was a green village, with 
meadows and windmills, when we were young), we look 
up sorrowfully at the clock of the old church, and regret 
that we could ever have committed such a sacrilege as to 
join in a party to pelt it. 
But the crowning joys of all were “ buttercupping ” 
and “ blackberrying.” As soon as the spring warmth 
brought forth the golden dandelions, and gave a new 
greenness to the grass in Stepney churchyard, away we 
went, inspired by the sunshine and rich greenness every¬ 
where, in parties of six or eight, to gather buttercups and 
daisies in Bow Common fields. Alas ! that spot is now 
a busy town, covered with houses, factories, and railway 
stations. It was then divided by hedgerows and gravel 
paths, and stile after stile led the way from “ Cut-throat 
Lane ” to “ Old Lord ” and “ Twigg Folly.” There we 
rolled and gambolled in the meadows, and sometimes 
lay on our backs and shaded our eyes with our hands, 
while we watched the lark in his ascending flight far 
into the blue, and almost melted into the embracing 
spring air under the influence of his joyous carol. There 
our arms were filled with the long stems of the butter¬ 
cups ; or we sat on the grass eating “ cock-sorrel ” to 
satiety, and got home at dusk, so tired with happiness, 
that sleep was a real relief. Orchard-robbing we never 
indulged in but once, for the good reason that “ our 
village ” had few orchards. I remember old “ Captain 
King,” as he was called, who kept a house and garden at 
