w him; he haunts the lanes at certain seasons of the
year, carrying an enormous flag, and invariably greets you with the
intelligence that he will bring the flag up next Christmas the same as
usual, according to time-honoured custom. He is the last vestige of the
old wandering minstrels of bygone days, playing his inharmonious
concertina in the hall of the manor house regularly at Christmas and at
other festivals.

Nor must we forget dear, honest Mr. White, the kindest and most pompous
of men, who, after fulfilling his destiny as head butler in a great
establishment, and earning golden opinions from all sorts and conditions
of men, finally settled down to a quiet country life in a pretty cottage
in our village, where he is the life and soul of every convivial
gathering and beanfeast, carving a York ham or a sirloin with great
nicety and judgment. He has seen much of men and manners in his day, and
has a fund of information on all kinds of subjects. Having plenty of
leisure, he is a capital hand at finding the whereabouts of outlying
foxes; and once earned the eternal gratitude of the whole neighbourhood
by starting a fine greyhound fox, known as the "old customer," out of a
decayed and hollow tree that lay in an unfrequented spot by the river.
He poked him out with a long pole, and gave the "view holloa" just as
the hounds had drawn all the coverts "blank," and the people's faces
were as blank as the coverts; whereupon such a run was enjoyed as had
not been indulged in for many a long day.

But what of our miller--our good, honest gentleman farmer and
miller--now, alas! retired from active business? What can I say of him?
I show you a man worthy to sit amongst kings. A little garrulous and
inquisitive at times, yet a conqueror for all that in the battle
of-life, and one of whom it may in truth be said,

"And thus he bore without abuse
The grand old name of gentleman."

As to the morals of the Gloucestershire peasants in general, and of our
village in particular, it may be said that they are on the whole
excellent; in one respect only they are rather casual, not to say
prehistoric.

The following story gives one a very good idea of the casual nature of
hamlet morals:--

A parson--I do not know of which village, but it was somewhere in this
neighbourhood--paid a visit to a newly married man, to speak seriously
about the exceptionally premature arrival of an heir. "This is a
terrible affair," said the pa