runs down to the farm, whose name is Kingswell.
It has its traditions too, and the monarch
who honoured it with his visitations was no less
than the King of the Fairy Elves, yclept
Pixies in this neighbourhood. The oral
recorders of their presence and their prowess are
departed and almost forgattcn now, but it was
not so "when 1 was young——O woeful when!"
which I re-echo to the plaints of the Devonian
poet, who, being of an earlier generation, knew
more about the Pixies than I.

But in this region of romance I have seen
the heaven-roofed hall in which the Pixies
assembled, the green turf on which they danced,
the granite fountains in which they bathed, and
the buttercups out of which they drank. I have
heard from the lips of the believing peasantry
tales of their moonlight gatherings, their sportive
wicked tricks; and though to my childish,
and half-credulous inquiries, somewhat timidly
urged, "Have you seen them, you yourself?"
the answers were somewhat pitying and
reproachful, as if doubt were sin: " Zure, us
have yeard all about 'em from our vathers——it
is as true as truth!" In later life I have known
grave men, great authorities, look down upon
Doubters as these rustics looked down upon me,
and who have added to the pity and the
reproach the condemnation and the anathema!

Brightly shone the sunshine when the tenant
of Kingswell came to my father and asked him
to allow me to pass part of my holidays at the
farm. In those days a journey to Moreton
(Moortown) was a somewhat perilous
undertaking. No wheeled vehicle had ever traversed
the road to Exeter. The " well-to-do" farmer
came on horseback, generally carrying his
wife or daughter on a pillion behind, who held
themselves fast by a leathern belt round the
waist of the rider——indeed, every precaution
was needful to their safety, for the ways were
rough, steep, and stony; slips from the high
banks often brought down roots, earth, heavy
blocks, and heaps of pebbles to interrupt the
passage, which was sometimes darkened by the
intertanglings of the branches above. Some
of the hills to be ascended or descended
were so sharp and abrupt, and the ground so
shaky and shifting, that it was the custom
to dismount and lead the horse. All
commodities were then conveyed in " crooks" or
"panniers," which were attached to wooden
pack-saddles. They brought potatoes (highly
valued for their superior quality, for they are
said to flourish best in an ungrateful arid soil),
barley, and other agricultural produce, to be sold
in the uncovered market then held in the main
street of Hexon, or Hexter, the name by which
the provincial city was usually known. The
manufacturing interest was not unimportant.
In the times I speak of, the productions of the
loom were nearly equal in value to those of the
land. In every cottage the noise of the shuttle
was heard, and when father, or mother, or
grown-up children were not engaged in the field,
they were occupied in the spinning of yarn, or
the weaving of woollens——principally long ells
for the trade with China, where they have
retained their reputation to the present time. The
same farmer who employed the labourer on his
estate, distributed to him the weft and the warp,
and collected the woven stuffs for account of the
manufacturer and merchant in Exeter, who
fulled, dyed, dressed, and packed them for
exportation. The honest farmer, whose name was
Smale, was one of my father's representatives,
and every Friday the results of the week's gathering
were brought to our mills. My affections had
been warmed towards our friend by his hearty,
loud-voiced greeting, the grasp of his hard hand
was like that of a vice, and his " How bee 'e?
How glad I be to zee 'e!" had all the ring of
eloquence in my ears. Moreover, he frequently
brought in a bag of what he called " waste stuff,"
which was barley, excellent for the use of my
cocks and hens, and which I calculated gave me
a considerable number of pence, when, having
been paid by my mother for all the eggs
consumed in the family, I made up the debtor
and creditor account of the poultry-yard, which
I was allowed to manage for my own personal
pecuniary benefit.

Consent being obtained, and some clothes
tied up in a pocket-handkerchief, I was
trotted off, gay and happy as a goldfinch in
spring, to the inn in the St. Thomas outskirt of
the city, where a pack-saddled horse was
selected for my accommodation. Off we trotted,
but it was not long before I found the sharp
wooden ridge of the saddle somewhat
uncomfortable. I fancied it would be cowardly and
unbecoming to utter a word of complaint; but
a shaking and stumbling, and my balance more
than once nearly lost, and a hand suddenly
placed now behind and now before me for the
sake of a little extra support, and no doubt a
visible anxiety in my countenance, induced my
protector to ask whether I might not like to
walk a little: and great was my joy to think
that the suggestion should come from him and
not from me. I walked and walked till I was
weary——made many an excuse for not getting
up again——but in utter exhaustion consented
to resume my seat on the uneasy edge, whose
painful impressions did not abandon me for
many a day.

After about eleven miles of weary travel we
came to a narrow lane, which, opening from the
highway, led to the valley below. We crossed
a crystal brook filled with water-cresses, passed
through a rude gate or two, reached the
farmyard, and at the door of the house two rosy-
cheeked damsels were waiting to welcome us
with a welcome so cordial, that their bright eyes
looked brighter, their faces glowed with a still
richer red, and their smiles, how sweet, how
very sweet, how very kind they were! Scarcely
seated, when a plate of bread and cream was
produced; they said the rule of the house was,
that the bread was not to be thicker than the
cream. O that rich clouted Devonshire cream!
The Phœnicians (many thanks to them!) taught
our forefathers to make it, and I can say, from
personal knowledge, that the scholars now far