the troubles," Mr. Baldwin Fulford
was a Conservative, and had been very useful to his party. It was
intended, therefore, to reward his services when the time came by a
county office, which would have placed him at ease pecuniarily. When
this office fell vacant the Tories were "in," and all seemed secure
for Mr. Fulford's interest. But there's many a slip 'twixt cup and
lip. A gentleman applied to the prime minister for the place for a
friend of his, whose services to the party he duly dilated on.
"I understood," said his lordship, "that Mr. Fulford's claims are
considered paramount." "Mr. Fulford!" was the rejoinder. "I scarcely
thought that such a place as this would be an object to Mr. Fulford--a
gentleman of great position, with a deer-park and all that sort of
thing." "A deer-park! You surprise me. I understood that Mr. Fulford's
circumstances were extremely reduced. This alters the matter."
Unfortunately, the, minister committed himself too far to draw back
before making inquiries, when he learned that a deer-park having
existed at Fulford for some four or five centuries, its owner had
kept as a memento of grand old days a little remnant of the herd in
a paddock, as before mentioned. He never recovered the blow of this
disappointment. The heir to the property is, we believe, a son of the
late bishop of Montreal. The family motto is "Bear up"--one eminently
suited to its present condition, and we may hope that it will be
followed so successfully that this ancient stock, which has held for
so long a high place among the worthies of Devon, may once more win
the smiles of Fortune.

Many of the most picturesque parks are but little known, lying as
they do remote from railway stations. Mr. Nesfield, the great
landscape-gardener, considers that Longleat, the marquis of Bath's,
near Warminster, has greater natural advantages than any park in
England, and that these have been made the most of.

Lord Stamford's park of Bradgate, in Leicestershire, is in the highest
degree interesting. It is mostly covered with the common fern or
brakes, and the projecting bare and abrupt rocks rising here and
there, with a few gnarled and shivered oaks in the last stage of
decay, present a scene of wildness and desolation in striking contrast
to some of the beautiful adjoining valleys and fertile country.

Another gem of its kind is Ugbrook. This is situated a few miles from
the Newton-Abbot station of the South Devon Railway, and lies i