d to the right was as rich in cherry-trees, filberts, and cobnuts.
In the garden we had a fig-tree, and the mulberry-tree, which is still
there, was in full bearing in our time. The garden altogether was
wonderfully prolific in flowers as well as fruits--roses as well as
strawberries and apples; and the green-house was full of grapes.
Nightingales sang in the trees near the house, and the shrubbery was
full of song birds. We had a grand view from the leads, where we used
sometimes to go, and whence I remember seeing a farmyard fire over at
Higham--which fire they said had been caused by an incendiary. There was
a Low Church clergyman in the neighbourhood who might have been Chadband
or Stiggins. He was fond of some girls we knew, and called them his
"lambs." He used to put his arm round their waists, and they sat on his
knees quite naturally. I myself heard him preach at Shorne against the
institution of pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. He said it was not only
superstitious but irreligious; as pancakes meant "pan Kakon," all evil.
This I, then a girl of thirteen or so, heard and remember. When my
father died his property had to be sold, as he did not make an eldest
son. Mr. W. H. Wills, the trusty friend of Charles Dickens, and editor
of _Household Words_ and _All The Year Round_, was also a friend of
mine. We met at a dinner, and he spoke to me about Gad's Hill, but as if
he wanted to buy it for himself. He was afraid to mention Charles
Dickens's name, lest we should ask too much. So he told me afterwards. I
had been left executrix under my father's will, being then the only
unmarried daughter; and I took the news to our solicitor and
co-executor, Mr. Loaden. He wrote to Mr. Wills, and the sale was
effected. We scored a little triumph over the "ornamental timber." Mr.
Dickens objected to our price; the case was submitted to an arbitrator,
and we got more than we originally asked. But there was never one moment
of pique on either side, nor a drop of bad blood as the consequence. It
was always a matter for a laugh and a joke between Mr. Wills and myself.
When we first went to Gad's Hill there was a fish-pond at the back; but
my father had it filled up, lest one of his adventurous little ones
should tumble in. Officers used to come up from Chatham to the Falstaff,
and have pigeon matches in our big field; and one of the sights which
used to delight our young eyes, was the gallant bearing and gay uniforms
of the Commandant at Cha