art on the second half of the day's expedition.

The three-mile walk lay for three parts of the way through fields, which
to the town-livers afforded a refreshing change from noisy and dusty
streets, and when the little village was reached, "our old woman's
cottage" was found to be as clean and neat and hospitably attractive as
of yore. It was a tiny whitewashed cottage standing back from the lane
in a garden bright with old-fashioned flowers, and the stone-floored
kitchen boasted an old oak dresser and table which were the envy of all
beholders.

"They're always after it!" our old woman would announce, chuckling.
"Titled gentry I've had, driving up in their own carriage, a-coaxing and
wheedling so as never was. `_No_,' I says, `they was my mother's afore
me, and her mother's afore that, and it's a poor tale if I can't have
the pleasure of them while _I_ live! If it's waluable to you, it's
waluable to me, too. That's only common sense...' And what's your
fancy today, lovies? boiled eggs and buttered toast, same as afore?"

Boiled eggs and buttered toast it was, despite the protests of the
mothers, who thought that really, after such a lunch--! And after tea
our old woman provided buttonholes for each member of the party, and
hobbled to the gate to see them off, assuring them, as was her yearly
custom, that "the gamekeepers was getting very crusty of late, but you
leave the roots alone and nobody can't say nothing about a few bits of
flowers." That yearly threat of the gamekeeper lent a _soupcon_ of
excitement to the scramble over the sloping woods, which surrounded as
an amphitheatre a deep green meadow through which meandered a tiny
stream.

At any moment, as it appeared, a stalwart figure in velveteen bearing a
gun over his shoulder might appear round the trunk of a tree, demanding
your licence or your life. It was interesting to discuss exactly what
you would do or say under the circumstances, and the very worst thing in
punishments which could possibly be your fate!

To-day, however, no such interruption took place, and the dear old
playground looked, if possible, more beautiful than ever. The ground
was carpeted with buttercups, and when one stood on the top of the steep
banks and looked down on the green and the gold, and caught glimpses of
the blue sky beyond--well, it was as near an approach to fairyland as
one could hope to find within twenty miles of a big manufacturing town.

Mrs Garnett packed