a gate of the old city-wall, and along the quaint
streets of the town, the party came to Hyde Abbey,--or what little now
remains of it.

"Alfred's body was first buried in the old minster (cathedral); then
it was carried to the new; and last of all, it was removed by the
monks here to Hyde Abbey, which monastery Alfred himself had founded.
In the eighteenth century the Abbey was almost entirely destroyed, and
then it was that Alfred's true burial-place was lost sight of. Later
still, in making some excavations here, the workmen found an ancient
coffin which was examined and believed to be that of the King.
Reverently it was reburied and marked with a flat stone, and this
doubtful grave is the only trace we now have of Alfred the Great."
They had all quietly followed Mrs. Pitt to the spot where, across the
way from the Abbey, they saw the grave.

Before returning to the hotel that night, Mrs. Pitt suggested that
they go to see the old Hospital of St. Cross.

"It's only about a mile from the town," she said. "There's a charming
little path along the banks of the Itchen, and I think we'd enjoy the
walk in the cool of the afternoon."

Mrs. Pitt was quite correct. It proved a delightful stroll, leading
them to the fertile valley in which Henry de Blois built his Hospital
of St. Cross, by the side of the pleasant little river.

"The Hospital was really founded by Henry de Blois, but three
centuries later, Cardinal Beaufort took much interest in it, made some
changes and improvements, and greatly aided in its support," the
children were told. "To this day, there is a distinction between the
St. Cross Brethren and the Beaufort Brethren, but this is chiefly
confined to the matter of dress. Seventeen men are living here now,
and are most kindly treated, fed, clothed, and allowed to plant and
tend their own tiny gardens."

But the most interesting feature of St. Cross--that which in so
remarkably vivid a way holds its connection with the past--is the
dole. Since the reign of King Stephen, no one applying for food or
drink at the Beaufort Tower of St. Cross Hospital, has ever been
turned away. To each has been given, during all the centuries, a drink
of beer and a slice of bread. A slight distinction is made between
visitors by the scrutiny of the Brethren; for, to the tramp is handed
a long draught of beer from a drinking-horn and a huge piece of bread,
while to some are offered the old silver-mounted cup, and wooden
platt