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precociously flirted.

Perfectly fearless, and knowing that prevention is better than cure, he did his best to teach the village lout temperance in all things. He was the Squire's adju

tant.

the

Concerning Silchester, there is probably nothing more to be said, except that it is a lovely village. But all villages are lovely. Man preposterously tries to achieve hideous; but God covers his monstrosities with lichen and ivy, and makes the rain wash them and the sun embrown them; and so they gradually become what it is the fashion to call picturesque. This probably means—fit to make a picture of. It is the most conceited epithet in our language, for it patronizes the Creator.

What in the world would an archaeologist say if the most important thing about Silchester were forgotten? It has an immemorial wishing well. Clear water comes up into a granite basin, beneath a granite arch, Norman, or perhaps Saxon. It is the loveliest corner in the

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world, woodland all round, and a mountain ash overhanging the well. So rapidly rises the water as to realize Coleridge's exquisite lines

"Nor ever cease

Yon tiny cone of sand its soundless dance,
Which at the bottom, like a fairy's page,
As merry and no taller, dances still."

And of course there is a legend. A maiden of the Silchesters, a thousand (more or less) years ago, met beside this fountain a man faint with travel. He was too weak to reach the water, so as to quench his thirst. She not only aided him in his trouble, but brought him up to the house, and gave him food and wine. As he left, he said "Whoso wishes a true wish after drinking the water of that well, shall have what he wishes."

And it is recorded that as he passed down the great avenue his stature expanded, and he looked like unto Joseph of Arimathea.

precociously flirted.

Perfectly fearless, and

knowing that prevention is better than cure, he did his best to teach the village lout temperance in all things. He was the Squire's adju

tant.

Concerning Silchester, there is probably nothing more to be said, except that it is a lovely village. But all villages are lovely. Man preposterously tries to achieve the hideous; but God covers his monstrosities with lichen and ivy, and makes the rain wash them and the sun embrown them; and so they gradually become what it is the fashion to call picturesque. This probably means-fit to make a picture of. It is the most conceited epithet in our language, for it patronizes the Creator. What in the world would an archaeologist

say

if the most important thing about Silchester were forgotten? It has an immemorial wishing well. Clear water comes up into

basin, beneath a granite arch,

haps Saxon. It is

world, woodland all round, and a mountain ash overhanging the well. So rapidly rises the water as to realize Coleridge's exquisite lines

"Nor ever cease

Yon tiny cone of sand its soundless dance,
Which at the bottom, like a fairy's page,

As merry and no taller, dances still."

And of course there is a legend.

A maiden

of the Silchesters, a thousand (more or less) years ago, met beside this fountain a man faint with travel. He was too weak to reach the water, so as to quench his thirst. She not only aided him in his trouble, but brought him up to the house, and gave him food and wine. As he left, he said "Whoso wishes a true wish after drinking the water of that well, shall have what he wishes."

And it is recorded that as he passed down reat avenue his stature expanded, and he oh of Arimathea.

[graphic]

precociously flirted.

Perfectly fearless, and knowing that prevention is better than cure, he did his best to teach the village lout temperance in all things. He was the Squire's adju

tant.

Concerning Silchester, there is probably nothing more to be said, except that it is a lovely village. But all villages are lovely. Man preposterously tries to achieve the hideous; but God covers his monstrosities with lichen and ivy, and makes the rain wash them and the sun embrown them; and so they gradually become what it is the fashion to call picturesque. This probably means—fit to make a picture of. It is the most conceited epithet in our language, for it patronizes the Creator.

What in the world would an archæologist say if the most important thing about Silchester were forgotten? It has an immemorial wishing well. Clear water comes up into a granite. basin beneath a granite arch, Norman, or percon. It is the loveliest corner in the

[graphic]
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