and
carriages, and lately enlivened by a stage-coach from B---- to S----,
which passed through about ten days ago, and will I suppose return some
time or other. There are coaches of all varieties nowadays; perhaps this
may be intended for a monthly diligence, or a fortnight fly. Will you
walk with me through our village, courteous reader? The journey is not
long. We will begin at the lower end, and proceed up the hill.

*White's 'Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne;' one of the most
fascinating books ever written. I wonder that no naturalist has adopted
the same plan.

The tidy, square, red cottage on the right hand, with the long
well-stocked garden by the side of the road, belongs to a retired
publican from a neighbouring town; a substantial person with a comely
wife; one who piques himself on independence and idleness, talks
politics, reads newspapers, hates the minister, and cries out for
reform. He introduced into our peaceful vicinage the rebellious
innovation of an illumination on the Queen's acquittal. Remonstrance and
persuasion were in vain; he talked of liberty and broken windows--so we
all lighted up. Oh! how he shone that night with candles, and laurel,
and white bows, and gold paper, and a transparency (originally designed
for a pocket-handkerchief) with a flaming portrait of her Majesty,
hatted and feathered, in red ochre. He had no rival in the village, that
we all acknowledged; the very bonfire was less splendid; the little boys
reserved their best crackers to be expended in his honour, and he gave
them full sixpence more than any one else. He would like an illumination
once a month; for it must not be concealed that, in spite of gardening,
of newspaper reading, of jaunting about in his little cart, and
frequenting both church and meeting, our worthy neighbour begins to feel
the weariness of idleness. He hangs over his gate, and tries to entice
passengers to stop and chat; he volunteers little jobs all round,
smokes cherry trees to cure the blight, and traces and blows up all the
wasps'-nests in the parish. I have seen a great many wasps in our garden
to-day, and shall enchant him with the intelligence. He even assists his
wife in her sweepings and dustings. Poor man! he is a very respectable
person, and would be a very happy one, if he would add a little
employment to his dignity. It would be the salt of life to him.

Next to his house, though parted from it by another long garden with a
yew