Puslapio vaizdai
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The good of ancient times let others state;
I think it lucky I was born so late.

The present will itself in due course become the past. I wonder whether our descendants will then speak of these days as 'the good old times.' In spite of the great changes that have taken place during the last half-century, rural England away from towns and railways has outwardly altered little, and so as we drove along we felt that we saw the country much as our ancestors saw it who travelled this way, and very different the landscape looks from the box-seat of a phaeton from what it appears in the 'hurrygraphs' of it that alone can be obtained from a railway carriage. The road rises and falls with the country; when driving, therefore, your prospect is not cut off ever and again by a deep cutting or darksome tunnel; all the houses face the highway and make their best appearance to it. You enter a town or village in a natural manner, not sneak in or pass through it by back streets as on the railway, so that you really see the country towns and villages you pass through when journeying by road. You rush through a town by rail, and can thus know nothing of it, but driving leisurely along its streets, even if you make no halt, you obtain a very fair impression of the place.

Our road now led us by a gradual descent to a pleasant green lowland valley. Here for the first time on our journey our ears were greeted by the musical murmur of falling water, caused by a little river that formed a weir over which it tumbled and

foamed in a delightful manner. A pretty willow

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bordered stream it was, whose wanderings could be traced afar by its silvery gleaming and by the greenness and freshness of the vegetation along its banks. By the side of the river was a sleepy hamlet, an unsophisticated place, that might be miles from anywhere. What peaceful, uneventful lives the dwellers in such spots must lead, as far removed, to all appearance, from the hurry and rush of the outer world as though they were on another continent !

Another stretch of pretty country, dotted now and again with ancient homes, brought us to Swanton. Here a very fine church arrested our attention and caused us to make a halt. We found that not only were the doors of the building locked, but also the very gates leading into the churchyard; we therefore contented ourselves with an external inspection of the old fane. Though interesting architecturally, there was nothing of special note in the structure, unless it were a rebus we discovered over the doorway, in the shape of a swan and a large cask for a tun, carved in stone, forming thus the name Swan-ton.

Remounting the phaeton, we observed that a sudden change had taken place in the weather. A great, heavy, dun-coloured cloud bulging with aqueous vapour obscured the sunshine; it seemed strangely low as sweeping along it touched the very tops of the tall elms; it gave us a curious feeling as though it might descend and crush us. Then without further warning a clap of thunder broke the stillness; this was immediately followed by a regular deluge of rain and hail. We had not even time to escape the wet by driving under some wide-branching

trees; anything more sudden in even our changeful climate I do not remember to have experienced; we were taken wholly unawares. Of course we got a wetting, after which too late we donned our mackintoshes. No sooner had we done this than the cloud vanished as if by magic, and the sun shone once more upon a wet gleaming world. In the village was an old wooden windmill, the sails of which when we arrived were motionless; these now began to whirl round and round a great pace, for the thunder had brought up half a gale of wind. We saw the miller running up to his mill in haste from the public house, where, doubtless in despair of doing any work that day, he had been indulging in some good Norfolk ale. Possibly he feared now lest his mill should run on fire,' and was anxious to get the brake on, for these old wooden mills often get burnt down by the speed at which their sails are whirled round in a storm that comes suddenly upon them.

The wet road soon changed to a dusty one, proving that the storm was only local; but though the sky immediately overhead was clear, on the horizon dark indigo clouds were gathering suspiciously, and a distant rumble of thunder warned us to be prepared for rain. Fortunately we had an excellent road, and giving the horses their heads we made what haste we could. We raced the storm and won. Just as the rain commenced to fall we reached East Dereham and drove into the shelter of the King's Arms. I am afraid we're going to have a tempest,' remarked the ostler, and it certainly looked like it, but after a sharp shower and a roll or

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