rent, and with them a large
piece of allotment ground. But although they thus get a house and garden
almost free, they refuse to do the slightest or simplest repairs. If the
window gets broken--"Oh, let it stop; the landlord can do that." If a
piece of thatch comes off--"Oh, 'tisn't my house; let the landlord do it
up." So it goes on till the cottage is ready to tumble to pieces. What
is the landlord to do? In his heart he would like to raze the whole
village to the ground and rebuild it afresh. But there are not many who
can afford such an expense. Then, if it were done, the old women and old
men, and infirm persons who find a home in these places, would be driven
forth. If the landlord puts up two hundred new cottages, he finds it
absolutely necessary to get some kind of return for the capital
invested. He does not want more than two and a half per cent.; but to
ask that means a rise of perhaps a shilling a week. That is enough; the
labourer seeks another tumbledown place where he can live for tenpence a
week, and the poor and infirm have to go to the workhouse. So, rather
than be annoyed with the endless complaints and troubles, to say nothing
of the inevitable loss of money, the landlord allows things to go on as
they are.

Among our English cottages in out-of-the-way places may be found curious
materials for the study of character in humble life. In one cottage you
may find an upright, stern-featured man, a great student of the Bible,
and fond of using its language whenever opportunity offers, who is the
representative of the old Puritan, though the denomination to which he
may belong is technically known as the Methodist. He is stern, hard,
uncompromising--one who sets duty above affection. His children are not
spoiled because the rod is spared. He stands aloof from his fellows, and
is never seen at the cottage alehouse, or lingering in groups at the
cross-roads. He is certain to be at the "anniversary," _i.e._, the
commemoration of the foundation of the Methodist chapel of the parish.
The very next cottage may contain the antithesis of this man. This is a
genius in his way. He has some idea of art, as you may gather from the
fanciful patches into which his garden is divided. He has a considerable
talent for construction, and though he has never been an apprentice he
can do something towards mending a cart or a door. He makes stands with
wires to put flowers in for the farmers' parlours, and strings the dry
oak-ap