s were great trees when we moved them, and moving them stopped their
bearing. They blossom in the spring and look pretty, and that is all
master cares about." We left this charming enclosure, passing under the
archway before mentioned. And here I must pause a moment and admire the
happy idea of placing this pretty building at the end of this cultivated
spot. It closes the kitchen garden, and as its front is similar on
either side, it harmonizes with the regular garden we have left, as well
as with the wilder spot which we next approach. This building forms a
complete termination to one of that succession of lovely scenes with
which we are presented on our walk to the Tower. Each scene is totally
distinct in character from the others, and yet with matchless taste they
are united by some harmonious link, as in the present case.

Having then passed through the archway of this building, we observed
before us a grotto, into which we entered. On the right is a pond of
gold and silver fish, which are fed every morning by the hands of the
gifted possessor of this charming place. On the opposite side thirty or
forty birds assemble at the same time to hail the appearance of St.
Anthony's devotee, and chirrup a song of gratitude for their morning
meal. The grotto is formed under a road, and is so ingeniously contrived
that hundreds have walked over it without ever dreaming of the
subterranean passage beneath. The grotto-like arch winds underground for
perhaps sixty or seventy feet. When coming to its termination we are
presented with a flight of rustic steps, which leads us again directly on
to the Down. Looking back you cannot but admire the natural appearance
of this work of art. The ground over the grotto is covered with tangled
shrubs and brambles. There is nothing formed, nothing apparently
artificial, and a young ash springs as if accidentally from between the
stones.

We pursued our way to the Tower by a path of a quarter of a mile on the
Down, along a walk parallel to the wall of the public road, gently curved
to take off the appearance of formality, yet so slightly that you can go
on in a straight line. On our right hand venerable bushes of lavender,
great plants of rosemary, and large rose trees perfume the air, all
growing as if indigenous to the smooth turf. In one place clusters of
rare and deeply crimsoned snapdragons, in another patches of aromatic
thyme and wild strawberries keep up the charm of the