our ancestors who cannot reply to my criticisms, for even to this day the love of paint is still retained by many, who it appears to me should know better. I have a friend who is the lucky possessor of a fine country house; the hall and staircase of this are of mahogany beautifully carved. Though not of the best period of English architecture, the work is thoroughly honest, and as good as it can be. An architect who was on a visit to my friend actually recommended him to paint all the panelling and staircase white and yellow; his reasons I know not, but the fact I can vouch for.

The exceedingly narrow lanes called Rows' (of which there are over a hundred) are a peculiarity of Yarmouth, and not to be desired elsewhere; so narrow indeed are they that vehicles termed locally trollies' have been especially designed to traverse them. We saw nothing to admire in these rows; their narrowness is inconvenient and not picturesque, they have no redeeming merit. But I must be excused from saying more of Yarmouth; we took our outing to see the country, not towns. Besides, I am not writing a guide-book, nor have I the slightest desire to compete with such.

The landlord of our hotel proved to be an enthusiastic yachtsman, and kindly offered to take us for a long cruise, if we could afford the time, along the neighbouring rivers and Broads, but we preferred to keep to the road with its ever-changing scenery and varying interests. I merely mention this goodnatured offer as a fair sample of the unvarying kindness we met with from all those we came across

during our journey. Everyone seemed to take an interest in our driving expedition (the landlords of the inns that we stayed at from time to time especially), and did all that lay in their power to add to the pleasure of it. Driving by road is a very different thing from railway travelling surely? Who ever takes a particular interest in the railway tourist? He is too ordinary to be remarked upon, he comes and goes and pays his bill (at least it is to be hoped so) like the rest of his kind, but the mere fact that we had come all the way by road in the good oldfashioned manner that prevailed before George Stephenson invented the iron horse, seemed to attract a kindly attention to us. We were interesting.

From an old work that we came across at our hotel we learnt that the Yarmouth churches fared exceedingly badly at the time of the Commonwealth. Most if not all of the exceedingly fine old brasses that they contained were forcibly removed and melted down, and sold as mere metal. Not content with stealing (I can use no other suitable word) the brass memorials of the innocent dead, according to the authority of the old work in question, even the very gravestones in the churchyards were dug up and made some into grindstones, the broken fragments of others being employed to scrub the decks of vessels; and thus it was the sailors, seeing from the remains of inscriptions thereon that these stones had once formed portions of church monuments, came to call them 'holy-stones,' a term still universally employed.

CHAPTER XI.

The tameless Ocean---Caister Castle-Ormesby-Martham-A grand Old Church-The Land of the Broads-A new Holiday Ground-National Parks-The Cash Value of Scenery-An Old SignStalham-A Water Expedition - Norfolk Wherries - Puzzling Inscriptions--An Ancient Hamlet-A desolate-looking Country-North Walsham-The Silver Key-An Ancient Market CrossAntingham-Gunton Park-Picturesque Roadside England.

OUR room at Yarmouth faced the sea. Waking early in the morning we glanced out of our window to learn how the weather promised for the day. We were especially anxious that it should be fine, as we were about to explore the Land of the Broads, to us a new and strange country, and, though a portion of our loved England, as strange and fresh as though we had to cross the Channel to see it.

A glorious, bracing, breezy morning it proved to be, and we looked forth upon a cheerful, inspiriting prospect. Though early, the sun had already risen some time, and was shining down from a blue sky across which were drifting careless summer clouds, changing in colour from tender white and pale amber to a wonderful pearly grey. How different these delicate morning tints from the glowing golds and burning reds of a stormy sunset! A grand expanse of tossing waters was before us, the foam-flecked waves were dancing and sparkling in the glad

morning light; far away a long line of gleaming silver was upon the horizon, and nearer at hand were many busy fishing craft, whose sails were bulging in the freshening wind, and whose wet sides glistened ever and again as they rose and fell, reflecting the tints of sea and sky. From the distant gleam of silvery radiance to the green crested waves breaking upon the sandy shore, all was brightness, movement, and light. It was a day of days for the country, and we determined to start betimes so as to make the most of it.

However formally laid out, esplanaded, terraced, and artificial a watering-place may be, and generally is, it has ever the unspoilt sea before it; man fortunately cannot mar the tameless ocean by his mean structures and speculative buildings. Kingdoms wax and wane, the old order changes unceasingly, but the sea is now as it ever was, and as it will be for generations still to come. The fashions of the ships that plough its waters truly vary age by age; but these come and go and leave no mark behind, it is as though they never had been. The majestic old three-decker has given place to the ungainly ironclad, and the graceful sailing-packet to the stately but matter-of-fact swift voyaging ocean steamer, but these leviathans of the deep keep wisely well away from land and are only seen in the dim distance by the visitors to seaside resorts. With the humble fishing craft, however, the reverse obtains, and fortunately time has done little or nothing to improve their delightful picturesqueness away. They are still with us, their red-tanned sails and rich brown

SEA-TROUT AND BLOATERS.

197

hulls are as charming to look upon as ever; a picture when afloat as well as when hauled up on the shore with their nets and other belongings gathered about them, in-to an artist at any rateattractive disorder.

For breakfast we had plump sea-trout, just caught, so the landlord informed us, at the mouth of the harbour, and a more tasty or a daintier dish there could not be. The famous Yarmouth bloaters too, fresh from the curious curing houses, seemed to us to possess a wholly different flavour here from those we have breakfasted upon in town; the close packing and transit do not improve this delicacy, for a delicacy they are, though not an expensive one.

As we drove out of Yarmouth we noticed the inevitable coast-guard with his telescope vainly sweeping the sea for the never coming smuggler. He bade us a 'good morning' as we passed by, and in reply we asked jokingly if there were any smugglers in sight. 'Lor' a bless you no, sir, as long as we bees here they won't be up to any of their tricks!' and we felt satisfied that at Yarmouth, at any rate, Her Majesty's Customs will not be defrauded by the landing of contraband goods.

We had a level sandy road at first, with a glimmering sea on one hand and a flat stretch of desolatelooking country on the other. A wind-swept land this, for there is nothing to restrain the breezes, come they from what quarter they will. The air was most exhilarating, we felt almost hungry again already, and the horses enjoyed the freshness of the morning too, for they pranced about in a playful