of the beauties of nature, the question uppermost
in his mind, as he jogs along the rough, uneven road or track which
leads to Bibury, is where to spend the night. The thought of returning
home at that late hour does not enter his head; for the stag having
gone away in exactly the opposite direction to that from which the
Warwickshire man had set out early in the morning, there are no less
than three-and-thirty long and weary miles between the hunter and his
home. In the days of good Queen Bess, however, hospitality was
proverbially free, and any decently set up Englishman was tolerably sure
of a welcome at any of the country houses which were then, as now,
scattered at long intervals over this wild, uncultivated district. And
as he rides round a bend in the valley, a fair manor house comes into
view, pleasantly placed in a sheltered spot hard by the River Coln. It
was built in the style which had just come into vogue--the Elizabethan
form of architecture; and in honour of the reigning monarch its front
presented the appearance of the letter E. The windows, instead of being
made of horn, were of glass; and tall stone chimneys (a modern luxury
but lately invented) carried away the smoke from the chambers within.

It so happened that at the moment the stranger was passing, the owner of
the house--a squire of some sixty years of age, but hale and hearty--was
standing in front of his porch taking the evening air. This fact the
horseman did not fail to notice, and with a ready eye to the main
chance, which showed its possessor to be a man of no ordinary
apprehension, he glanced approvingly at the groined porch, the richly
carved pinnacles above it, and at the quaint belfry beyond, exclaiming
with great enthusiasm:

"'Fore God, you have a goodly dwelling and a rich here. I do envy thee
thine house, sir."

"Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all," [8] was the reply,
to which, after a pause, the squire added, "Marry, good air."

[Footnote 8: _2 Henry IV_, V. iii.]

"Ah, 'tis a good air up on these wolds," replied the sportsman. "But I
am a stranger here in Gloucestershire; these high wild hills and rough,
uneven ways draw out our miles and make them wearisome.[9] How far is it
to Stratford?"

[Footnote 9: _King Richard II._, II. iii.]

"Marry, 'tis nigh on forty mile, I warrant. Thou'll not see Stratford
to-night, sir; thy horse is wappered[10] out, and that I plainly see."

[Footnote 10: _Wappered_ = tired.