end of our
exile. On one of our last evenings, April 6th, a reading was given in
the school-room, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" with Mendelssohn's music; no
unfit close, we said, to our _annns mirabilis_. For, indeed, its
incidents had been "such stuff as dreams are made of," as whimsical if
not quite as harmless, as if their plot had been directed by the blithe
goblin of Shakespeare's fantasy. The chorus of readers and of singers
were so far encouraged by their success, as to offer a second recital as
a farewell entertainment to the good people of Borth. They enjoyed it
hugely. Doubtless some of the simpler members of that audience would
follow the drift of the Sassenach poet only at a certain distance; but
Bottom's "transformed scalp," a pasteboard ass's-head, come all the way
from Nathan's, was eloquent without help of an interpreter. "Oh! that
donkey, he was beautiful," was the dramatic criticism of an esteemed
friend, a fisher's wife. The criticism was at least sincere; from the
moment of the monster's entry she had been in one rapture of laughter,
till her "face was like a wet cloak ill laid up." Well, the kind soul
had reason good enough for her merriment. But had the reason been less,
our neighbours would not have lost the occasion of dropping the shyness
of intercourse in a frank outburst of good fellowship.

But we took a more solemn farewell on the morrow, the 10th of April. The
parts were reversed now, and we were the spectators. Just at sundown of
a day of clear spring weather, the school was gathered at their doors
watching a long procession of villagers advancing up the street towards
them. We had heard whispers in the morning of a "demonstration," and now
it was come. Through the dust we caught sight of banners flying at the
head of the column; under them marched the choir of children singing, and
behind them the whole village was a-foot. The people of Borth, of every
age and degree, from the first householders and yeomen of the place to
the fishermen's boys and girls, had come to wish us God speed. Reaching
the school quarters they halted, the boys lining the roadway on each side
of them, and filling the broad flight of steps before the hotel doors.
When the cheers for "Uppingham" and our answering cheers for "Borth" had
rung out across the sands to seaward, there was an interval, filled up
with songs by the children, while they waited the arrival of the
spokesmen, whom they had charged with