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roadside. The tower of this is round, but we had become so accustomed to round church towers that we no longer regarded these with the special interest of novelty. We noticed here the Saxon doorway with a quaint figure above it, and caught a glimpse through one of the windows of a curiously carved font. Then a mile or more of pleasant treebordered lane took us to Mettingham Castle. A picturesque, ivy-covered ruin this, which, unless I greatly mistake, is an old friend of ours—in pictures. It is strange how, in driving across country, you will now and again come upon a place or an old building that seems perfectly familiar to you, although you have never been in that part of the world before; but the artist has been there, and has already revealed its beauties to you in his paintings.

Only the entrance gateway of the castle is to be seen from the road, with a peep of the weed-grown moat, spanned now by a stone bridge. There was nobody about ; so, taking our sketch-book with us, we wandered over the ancient ruin. In what was the former courtyard we found a modern brick homestead in the so-called Queen Anne style, and a very charming home it was, snugly contained within the castle walls; the bright cheerful look of the trim new building, with its tidy gay flower garden, contrasted strangely and effectively with the dark, rugged, and weather-stained remains of the old stronghold. As we were sketching, some one came up to us and asked whether we knew that we were trespassing; we replied that we feared we were, and apologised for our intrusion, explaining that as we could see no

one about of whom to ask permission, we had invited ourselves into the ruins, and trusted that we were doing no harm in making a sketch of them. 'A soft answer turneth away wrath;' we soon made friends with the man in authority who came intent on warning us away, and had a long and interesting conversation with him, which ended in our obtaining permission to ramble about wherever we liked. During our chat we learnt that some years ago a peal of six bells, all of real silver, was found whilst draining a portion of the moat, which bells were supposed to have belonged to the chapel of the castle. I am afraid that during our wanderings we have at different times been tempted to do a good deal of trespassing, but in every case, upon apologising and explaining our purpose, we have been treated not only with civility but now and again. even with unexpected courtesy. Upon one occasion a gentleman, in whose park we had wandered regardless of notice boards, ended his remonstrance against our trespass by actually asking us into his house to lunch! Possibly there may be some surly landlords, but so far I have not come even upon a single example. I can only speak of people as I find them. A little civility is an excellent passport to take with you on a tour; civility begets civility-and it costs nothing.

Having secured one or two additional sketches for our ever-growing collection, we remounted the phaeton and once more proceeded on our way. The rain, which had held off for a time, now commenced in earnest, but we were prepared for it, and

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in spite of the wet enjoyed our drive. Passing through Barsham we stopped to see its curious and interesting old church; this has a quaint east window of an uncommon lozenge-shaped pattern, the roof is of homely thatch, except the nave, the tower here is round, as is the prevailing fashion in Norfolk. Why, I wonder, are Norfolk church towers so generally of this singular form? I have not been able to learn a plausible reason yet for this strange departure from what prevails elsewhere in England; the most generally accepted theory appears to be that they were thus built for the sake of economy, as in a round tower there is a saving in masonry and in the cutting of corner stones. But surely there must be a more satisfactory reason than this, for the saving in labour is not so very great after all, and we find round towers attached to churches that are glorious examples of architecture; and again, some of these round towers show no signs of the saving of labour or expense, being decorated with elaborate patterns in flint and stone panelling, sometimes even, as in the case of the Holy Trinity at Bungay, having the further addition of carved stone shields. We learnt from a clergyman we met during our wanderings that there is a tradition amongst the country people that these round towers were the casing of wells in the time of the flood, and that the land around had been washed away, leaving the circular stonework standing! One picks up many curious traditions and quaint fancies driving leisurely about country, conversing with those one comes across in out-of-the-way spots. It has astonished us to find what a sturdy

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old-fashioned belief is still retained by rural folk in ghosts; more than one desirable house have we had pointed out to us that has stood for long years, tenantless, and all because such bear the evil reputation of being haunted. Truly a house with a family ghost attached is not a profitable possession in the country. But are country uneducated rural folk alone in their superstitions? I know certain people who firmly believe in spirit-rapping, and in a large and prosperous provincial town I am acquainted with an excellent residence, desirable in every respect, but which always stands empty simply because it is said to be haunted. There is a deal of superstition still existing in the world, and amongst a class in which one would hardly expect to find it. Indeed I am not sure if I am wholly free from it myself, for I know a certain room in an old country house with its dark oak-panelled walls and ancient four-poster, seeming so ghostlike and eerie that nothing would induce me to sleep therein.

CHAPTER X.

Wet Weather-Inn full-Beccles-A Fortunate Town-The Waveney Valley Thatched Churches Haddiscoe - A Dutchlike Landscape - St. Olave's A Riverside Hotel - Painters and Scenery Fritton Church and Broad-A Quiet Spot-BelatedOld Yarmouth Houses and Rows-A Good-natured Landlord'Holy Stones.'

It was raining hard as we drove into Beccles, but in spite of the downpour the streets were crowded, for it was market-day. We made the best of our way to the King's Head, the old coaching hostelry, and arriving there it was that we had our first and only disagreeable experience of the journey. The inn chanced to be crowded with farmers, a market dinner was on, but unfortunately, not only the inn but the stables likewise were filled to their utmost capacity, and somewhat more, horses being packed together like sardines in a box. Both entrances to the courtyard were blocked up entirely with a curious collection of conveyances, so that it was impossible for us to drive in, and even had we been able to do this, there was positively no place for our tired horses. Here was a pretty state of affairs, neither accommodation for man nor beast! There was absolutely nothing for it but to wait about in the rain till there should be room for us, and when that would be how could we tell? for doubtless