ground for generations.

Then to the north of the stream the houses straggled up on either side
of a long winding street, sometimes two or three together under one long
thatched roof, and in other places singly, with a small bit of meagre
garden round them; a wooden latch lifted by a string which dangled
outside being the prevailing fastening to the outer doors.

Right up at the top of the street, and a little to the left, was the old
Saxon church, which had retained a considerable share of its original
massive beauty, spite of the combined attacks of plaster, mildew, and a
succession of destructive restorations which had lowered the roof,
bricked up more than one fine old window, and thrust out a great iron
chimney, which looked not unlike the mailed hand of some giant shaking
its clenched fist at the solid tower which it was unable to destroy.

Just under the shadow of the old church, and separated from it by the
low wall of the churchyard, was the vicarage, a grey-looking structure
in the midst of a small but well-stocked garden; while beyond it were
fields in long succession, with a ponderous-looking farm-house crouching
down here and there amongst them.

Of course there was an inn in the village. It was marked out to
travellers by a sign-board dependent from a beam projecting over the
footpath. Something had once been painted on the board, but it had
become so blurred and indistinct under the corroding action of sun and
rain, that it would be quite impossible now to decide whether the
features delineated on it were those of a landscape, a lion, or a human
countenance.

Such was Crossbourne some forty years back. But now, what a marvellous
change! Coal has been found close by, and the little village has leapt,
as if by magic, into a thriving town. Huge factories and foundries rise
from the banks of the stream; the ford is spanned by a substantial
bridge; the corn-mill has disappeared, and so have the rheumatic-looking
old mossy cottages. A street of prim, substantial houses, uniform, and
duly numbered, with brass handles, latches, and knockers to the doors,
now leads up to the church. And that venerable building has certainly
gained by the change; for the plaster and the iron chimney have
vanished, full daylight pours in through all the windows, while two new
aisles have been added in harmony with the original design of the
unknown architect. The vicarage, too, has expanded, and been smartened
up to su