early thinks his
family is in danger.

On the right of the Serpentine towards the north, a wide slope of grass
and trees above the water has been fenced off for the benefit of the
Peacock family, and these are objects of great interest to admirers of
all ages. The males come in for most attention, owing to their beauty.
It is a very droll sight to see Mr. Peacock, with gorgeous tail and
crest fully outspread, his richly coloured breast and neck gleaming in
the sunlight, bowing, strutting, and scraping before the peahen whom he
admires. On this same ground moorhens and other shy aquatic birds make
their home in bush and sedge, from time to time crossing the open grass,
evidently aware of their safety, but taking little interest in the
lookers-on.

Memories of the past have very much to do with this oldest of the
national parks. The Serpentine recalls to us one of London's lost
rivers, the Westbourne, the current of which still helps to swell its
volume of water. Rising in the Hampstead heights, and passing the
villages of Paddington and Kensington, this stream flowed through and
often overflowed the pleasant Manor of Hyde, which then belonged to the
rich Abbey of Westminster, and from which the present park takes its
name.

Good Queen Bess thought her own amusement and that of her courtiers of
more importance than the enjoyment of the common folk, and filled the
park with antlered stag and timid deer, while for many a long day the
merry 'toot, toot' of the hunter's horn echoed amongst its glades, until
merriment vanished before the grim tragedy of King Charles's execution
in 1649. Then for twenty years and more the stately avenues were quiet
and peaceful, and little children played beside the river until Cromwell
died and Charles II. 'came to his own again.' Nothing less than turning
the park into a race-course would content the new king, and the
enclosure echoed with the sound of galloping horses, whilst an army of
men with pick and shovel cleared and cut out the circular drive now
known as Rotten Row, a name which is supposed by some to be a
corruption of the French 'Route du Roi' (King's Way).

North-east of the park, close to where the Marble Arch now stands, was a
plot of ground connected with more horrors than could be found elsewhere
in England. This was the site of the famous Tyburn Tree--London's
hanging-place in the days of old, when even a child might be hanged for
stealing a few pence. Many a procession