ed at
harvest-homes half-a-century ago; and slowly spells over the service in
a prayer-book which asks blessings upon a king instead of a queen. She
often keeps the village "confectioner's" shop--_i.e._, a few bottles of
sweets and jumbles in the window, side by side with "twists" of whipcord
for the ploughboys and carters, and perhaps has a license for tobacco
and snuff.

But long before this age they have in most cases been kept by the
parish. The farmers who form the guardians know well the history of the
poor of their parishes, and remembering the long years of hard work,
always allow as liberal a relief as they can to these women. Out of all
their many children and grandchildren, it may happen that one has got on
fairly well in life, has a business as a blacksmith, or tinker, or
carpenter, and gives her a shilling or so a week; and a shilling goes a
long way with a woman who lives upon tea and sops. In their latter days
these women resemble the pollard oaks, which linger on year after year,
and finally fall from sheer decay.

_AN ENGLISH HOMESTEAD._

It is easy to pass along a country road without observing half of the
farmhouses, so many being situated at a distance from the highway, and
others hidden by the thick hedges and the foliage of the trees. This is
especially the case in districts chiefly occupied in pasture farming,
meadow land being usually found along the banks of rivers, on broad
level plains, or in slightly undulating prairie-like country. A splendid
belt of meadows often runs at the base of the chalk hills, where the
springs break out; and it is here that some of the most beautiful
pastoral scenery is to be found.

By the side of the highway there are gates at intervals in the
close-cropped hedge--kept close-cropped by the strict orders of the road
surveyors--giving access to the green fields through which runs a
waggon-track, apparently losing itself in the grass. This track will
take the explorer to a farmhouse. It is not altogether pleasant to drive
over in a spring trap, as the wheels jolt in the hard ruts, and the
springs are shaken in the deep furrows, the vehicle going up and down
like a boat upon the waves. Why there should be such furrows in a meadow
is a question that naturally arises in the mind. Whether it be mown with
the scythe or the mowing-machine, it is of advantage to have the surface
of the field as nearly as possible level; and it is therefore most
probable that the