the finest apples in the neighborhood, and divided by three winding
gravel-walks, of which the extremest was backed by a wall, whereon,
as it lay full south, peaches, pears, and nectarines sunned themselves
early into well-remembered flavor. This walk was appropriated to my
father. Book in hand, he would, on fine days, pace to and fro,
often stopping, dear man, to jot down a pencil-note, gesticulate, or
soliloquize. And there, when not in his study, my mother would be sure
to find him. In these deambulations, as he called them, he had generally
a companion so extraordinary that I expect to be met with a hillalu of
incredulous contempt when I specify it. Nevertheless I vow and protest
that it is strictly true, and no invention of an exaggerating romancer.
It happened one day that my mother had coaxed Mr. Caxton to walk with
her to market. By the way they passed a sward of green, on which sundry
little boys were engaged upon the lapidation of a lame duck. It seemed
that the duck was to have been taken to market, when it was discovered
not only to be lame, but dyspeptic,--perhaps some weed had disagreed
with its ganglionic apparatus, poor thing. However that be, the
good-wife had declared that the duck was good for nothing; and upon the
petition of her children, it had been consigned to them for a little
innocent amusement, and to keep them out of harm's way. My mother
declared that she never before saw her lord and master roused to such
animation. He dispersed the urchins, released the duck, carried it
home, kept it in a basket by the fire, fed it and physicked it till it
recovered; and then it was consigned to the square pond. But lo! the
duck knew its benefactor; and whenever my father appeared outside his
door, it would catch sight of him, flap from the pond, gain the lawn,
and hobble after him (for it never quite recovered the use of its left
leg) till it reached the walk by the peaches; and there sometimes it
would sit, gravely watching its master's deambulations, sometimes stroll
by his side, and, at all events, never leave him till, at his return
home, he fed it with his own hands; and, quacking her peaceful adieus,
the nymph then retired to her natural element.

With the exception of my mother's favorite morning-room, the principal
sitting-rooms--that is, the study, the diningroom, and what was
emphatically called "the best drawing-room," which was only occupied on
great occasions--looked south. Tall beeches, firs