part of the neighbourhood half so pleasant as
the groves and river banks of Rockville, they
came swarming up there in crowds that were
enough to drive any man of acres frantic.

Unluckily, there were roads all about
Rockville; foot roads, and high roads, and bridle
roads. There was a road up the river side,
all the way to Rockville woods, and when it
reached them, it divided like a fork, and one
prong or foot-path led straight up a magnificent
grove of a mile long, ending close to the hall;
and another ran all along the river side, under
the hills and branches of the wood.

Oh, delicious were these woods! In the
river there were islands, which were covered
in summer with the greenest grass, and the
freshest of willows, and the clear waters
rushed around them in the most inviting
manner imaginable. And there were numbers
of people extremely ready to accept this
delectable invitation of these waters. There
they came in fine weather, and as these
islands were only separated from the mainland
by a little and very shallow stream, it
was delightful for lovers to get across—with
laughter, and treading on stepping-stones, and
slipping off the stepping-stones up to the
ankles into the cool brook, and pretty screams,
and fresh laughter, and then landing on those
sunny, and to them really enchanted, islands.
And then came fishermen, solitary fishermen,
and fishermen in rows; fishermen lying in the
flowery grass, with fragrant meadow-sweet
and honey-breathing clover all about their
ears; and fishermen standing in file, as if
they were determined to clear all the river of
fish in one day. And there were other lovers,
and troops of loiterers, and shouting
roysterers, going along under the boughs of the
wood, and following the turns of that most
companionable of rivers. And there were
boats going up and down; boats full of young
people, all holiday finery and mirth, and boats
with duck-hunters and other, to Sir Roger,
detestable marauders, with guns and dogs,
and great bottles of beer. In the fine grove,
on summer days, there might be found
hundreds of people. There were pic-nic
parties, fathers and mothers with whole
families of children, and a grand promenade
of the delighted artisans and their wives or
sweethearts.

In the times prior to the sudden growth of
the neighbouring town, Great Stockington,
and to the simultaneous development of the
love-of-nature principle in the Stockingtonians,
nothing had been thought of all these
roads. The roads were well enough till they
led to these inroads. Then Sir Roger aroused
himself. This must be changed. The roads
must be stopped. Nothing was easier to his
fancy. His fellow-justices, Sir Benjamin
Bullockshed and Squire Sheepshank, had
asked his aid to stop the like nuisances, and
it had been done at once. So Sir Roger put
up notices all about, that the roads were to
be stopped by an Order of Session, and these
notices were signed, as required by law, by
their worships of Bullockshed and Sheep-
shank. But Sir Roger soon found that it was
one thing to stop a road leading from One-
man-Town to Lonely Lodge, and another to
attempt to stop those from Great Stockington
to Rockville.

On the very first Sunday after the exhibition
of those notice-boards, there was a
ferment in the grove of Rockville, as if all
the bees in the county were swarming there,
with all the wasps and hornets to boot.
Great crowds were collected before each of
these obnoxious placards, and the amount of
curses vomited forth against them was really
shocking for any day, but more especially for
a Sunday. Presently there was a rush at
them; they were torn down, and simultaneously
pitched into the river. There were
great crowds swarming all about Rockville
all that day, and with looks so defiant that
Sir Roger more than once contemplated
sending off for the Yeoman Cavalry to defend
his house, which he seriously thought in
danger.

But so far from being intimidated from
proceeding, this demonstration only made
Sir Roger the more determined. To have so
desperate and irreverent a population coming
about his house and woods, now presented
itself in a much more formidable aspect than
ever. So, next day, not only were the
placards once more hoisted, but rewards offered
for the discovery of the offenders, attended
with all the maledictions of the insulted
majesty of the law. No notice was taken of
this, but the whole of Great Stockington was
in a buzz and an agitation. There were
posters plastered all over the walls of the
town, four times as large as Sir Roger's
notices, in this style:—

"Englishmen! your dearest rights are
menaced! The Woods of Rockville, your
ancient, rightful, and enchanting resorts, are
to be closed to you. Stockingtonians! the
eyes of the world are upon you. 'Awake!
arise! or be for ever fallen!' England
expects every man to do his duty! And your
duty is to resist and defy the grasping soil-
lords, to seize on your ancient Patrimony!"'

"Patrimony! Ancient and rightful resort,
of Rockville!" Sir Roger was astounded at
the audacity of this upstart, plebeian race.
What! they actually claimed Rockville, the
heritage of a hundred successive Rockville,
as their own. Sir Roger determined to carry
it to the Sessions; and at the Sessions was a
magnificent muster of all his friends. There
was Sir Roger himself in the chair; and on
either hand, a prodigious row of county squirearchy.
There was Sir Benjamin Bullockshed,
and Sir Thomas Tenterhook, and all the
squires, Sheepshank, Ramsbottom, Turnbull,
Otterbrook, and Swagsides. The Clerk of
Session read the notice for the closing of all
the footpaths through the woods of
Rockville, and declared that this notice had been