Romans, likewise, practised the art with great skill, and some of their productions, still extant, are truly wonderful. The Italians, who derived their knowledge of the art from their predecessors the Romans, are at the present day the most skilful cameo engravers; the productions of France and England in this art being less striking. In a recent number of the Art Journal was given an interesting account of the present mode of conducting the cameo art. We will present in a condensed form the more popular and easily understood details. It appears that Oberstein, a small town in Prussian Saxony, furnishes the chief supply of onyxes for the cameo engravers. Some are brought from the Brazils and from the East Indies, but the European artists depend chiefly upon Oberstein. The onyx occurs in detached pieces in the ground, in rows, all separated like the nodules of flint in chalk. The value of each specimen depends mainly on the character of its markings or tints. Sometimes chalcedony and carnelian are stained to imitate real onyx; and this, indeed, forms one of the arts carried on at Oberstein. There are layers or strata in chalcedony, which, though presenting the same tint to the eye, differ in texture and compactness. The stone is capable of absorbing fluids in the direction of the strata; but this power differs in the different strata, some of which will absorb more than others. Hence it follows that one single stone, treated with one single liquid, may be made to present as many gradations of tint as there are layers or strata, owing to their difference in absorptive power. This fact renders clear a statement in Pliny, which was long a matter of puzzlement. He speaks of the Roman artists boiling the onyx-stones with honey for seven or eight days. This statement, once discredited, is now believed, for there are dealers in agate, onyx, chalcedony, and carnelian, at Oberstein and Idar, who have manufactories in which analogous processes are carried on. This onyx dyeing is very curious. It was for many years a secret in the hands of one person at Idar, who is supposed to have derived it from Italy; but the art seems now to be regularly practised in the two towns above named. Suppose the artist to have a piece of chalcedony, or of red or yellow carnelian, which he wishes to convert into an onyx for the cameo engraver; he proceeds as follows:-The stone is carefully washed and dried; it is placed in a clean vessel containing honey and water, and is there maintained at nearly a boiling heat for a period of two or three weeks-the watered honey being renewed as fast as it evaporates. This done, the stone is transferred to a vessel containing strong sulphuric acid; it is covered over with a piece of slate, and the acid is heated to 350 or 400 degrees Fahrenheit. If the stone be soft, a few hours of this powerful ordeal will suffice; but a harder specimen may require immersion in the hot acid for a whole day. The stone is then washed and dried in a kind of oven, it is polished, and it is steeped for some days in oil. The oil is afterwards removed by rubbing the stone gently with bran. Sulphuric acid is used only in the cases when a dark or onyx ground is required; if a red or carnelian ground be sought, the acid is nitric instead of sulphuric. We have spoken of one stone only, but several are operated upon at once. Now, the conjoint action of the honey, the acid, and the oil appears to be this: the honey penetrates into the porous layers of the stone, and is carbonised in the pores by the acid; this carbonisation deepens the tints of the dark layers in the onyx specimens, and of the red layers in the carnelian specimens; while the heat increases the opacity of the white layers, thus rendering the contrast more striking. There are mechanical processes carried on at Ober stein, besides this chemical treatment of a particular kind of stone for a particular purpose. Besides onyx, agate, chalcedony, and carnelian, the Oberstein lapidaries work upon amethysts and other stones and gems. The rough chalcedony or onyx stones are ground upon small mills formed of very hard sandstone, mounted on horizontal axes, and worked by water-power. The stones are generally ground until some particular layer or tint comes conspicuously to the surface; and then a polishing process succeeds. It is after this grinding that the singular chemical colouring operation is conducted, in those specimens which-whether onyx, or sardonyx, or carnelian-are to be used for cameos. A method very strange to all but those familiar with its adoption, is employed for determining the value of the stones. A small fragment is broken off, and is moistened with the tongue; the buyer carefully notes the rate at which the moisture dries away; he examines to see whether it be absorbed by the stone quickly or slowly, and whether in equal or different degrees by the different layers. According to the greater or lesser rapidity of absorption, and to the equality or inequality of the absorption in different parts, so does he judge the susceptibility of the stone to receive the peculiar colouring action by means of honey, on which its fitness as a cameo material so much depends. The cameo-stones prepared at Oberstein and Idar are estimated at about L.3000 annual value. When a suitable piece of stone reaches the hands of the cameo engraver, he has many matters to take into consideration before he can commence his artistic labours. He has to determine what his design shall be, and how far the layers of the stone will be suitable for that design. Supposing him to select a head or bust on a dark ground, he would wish that the line of division between the light and dark layers of the onyx should be clearly defined, so as to coincide with the line of division between the device and the ground. When the stone consists of several layers of colour, considerable scope is afforded for the exercise of judgment in selecting a design, in which the whole of the colours can be rendered available consistently with true artistic effect. In reality, therefore, the cameo engraver does not resolve upon his design, and then search about for an onyx suitable for it; he rather takes an onyx, studies its layers and tints, and adapts a design to it. He may, it is true, have beforehand a general notion of the sort of cameo which he wishes to produce; but leaves himself open to modifications of plan according to the character and qualities of the onyx. These preliminary matters being settled, the artist proceeds with his delicate labours. He makes a drawing and a model: the drawing is much larger than the stone, but the model is the exact size of the stone. The wax-model is gradually wrought so as to represent the exact device which he wishes to produce in relievo on the cameo; and this serves him as a pattern or authority during his work. The outline is sketched on the surface of the stone, and is cut in with a sharp instrument; after which, the whole of the white portion of the onyx, beyond the limits of the design, is cut away, leaving the dark portion as a background. The interior portion of the design is then worked, by gradually cutting away the parts that are to be sunken: the waxmodel serving as a guide in respect to the depth to which the various points of the cutting are to be carried. This process of engraving is not effected, as some might suppose, by sharp chisels and gravers; the implements used are small revolving wheels made of soft iron. A sort of lathe is worked by a treadle; the little wheels are made to rotate rapidly; the onyx is held to the edge of a wheel; and the rapid revolution causes the wheel to cut away or abrade the surface of the onyx. It might perhaps be supposed that, as the onyx is harder than the soft iron, the latter would wear away rather than the former; but the stillness of the one and CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. intaglio, while the cameo is engraved in relievo. The SHIELDS AND SALVES. Ir is a very plaguy thing in this world, that one every now and then comes into contact with persons handsomer, cleverer, more accomplished, and every way better than ourselves-or presumed to be so-so that our amour propre, as the French call it, is liable to continual wounds. There is one way of avoiding all such injuries, which some few happily constituted persons find themselves capable of realising, and this is, to fall into a hearty admiration of the superior individuals, to love, follow, and delight in them, to make ourselves of their party, and, as it were, identify ourselves with them. In that case, all is well, and there is no occasion for further remark. But, as is well known, there is a vast number of persons who do not find it in their hearts to indulge in an appreciation of qualities strik would pine under a sense of their lower position, were it not that nature has kindly furnished certain other means of protection for a harassed self-love. the rapid movement of the other reverse this effect. A tallow candle fired from a gun, will penetrate a deal The little wheels board, from an analogous cause. employed vary in size and shape: some have edges as thin as a knife, while others have the edges more rounded; the largest are seldom more than a fifth or a sixth of an inch in diameter, while the smallest appear little more than mere points, although a magnifier shews them to possess the true circular or disk form. It is not the actual iron of the wheel which cuts the onyx, but a little diamond dust which, moistened with oil, is applied to it. Thus does the artist proceed with his slow and tedious work, cutting away the white part of the onyx until he has realised the full idea of his design. And when this is done, other little wheels of copper and of boxwood are employed to polish the dainty work. It is little matter for wonder that cameos which require so much patience, skill, and taste, should be costly. A well-executed cameo, with the head of a single figure upon it, costs even at the present day from L.12 to L.20. Nor need we express any surprise that attempts should be made to lessen the expense by employing some cheaper material than prepared onyx. Of all substitutes which have been tried, shells have been found most suitable; and hence has been intro-ingly superior to their own, and who consequently duced a new candidate to public favour-shell cameos. Some sorts of shell have the advantage of being soft enough to work upon with ease, while they afford the necessary variety in colour. Among other kinds, the shell called the Bull's Mouth,' from Madagascar and Ceylon, has a red or sardonyx inner coat or ground; the 'Black Helmet,' from Jamaica, Nassau, and New Providence, has a blackish or onyx inner coat; while the Queen Conch' has a pink ground. These shells are formed of three distinct layers of calcareous matter, deposited one after the other in the formation of the shell. For cameos, the central layer forms the body of the bas-relief; the inner layer being the ground; while the third or external layer is rendered available to give a varied appearance to the surface of the design. If the three layers are of different tints, the power of producing beautiful results is greatly increased; but if the layers be not well compacted together, a durable cameo could not result; and the artist has therefore many requirements to guide his selection. The shell called the Black Helmet' is large enough to yield two The shell cameos are not or three brooch cameos. wrought by revolving wheels, but by sharp cutting tools held in the hand-such as gravers, hardened wire sharpened at the point, and darning-needles. This pretty art-manufacture is said to have been introduced in Sicily about half a century ago, and to have been confined to Italy for twenty years or so; but an Italian then began to make shell cameos at Paris, where the art has ever since been carried on more extensively than anywhere else. Besides the cameos made of onyx and of shell, others are now made of glass. It has been found that some kinds of glass, if exposed for any considerable time to a high degree of heat, but below their point of fusion, are so far changed in their properties and texture as to become opaque, fibrous, tough, and extremely hard. It has also been found that two or more layers of glass, of different colours, may be cemented together into one whole. These two facts have rendered it easy to produce a material out of which cameos might be engraved by means similar to those which the flint-glass engraver employs in adorning decanters and table-glass generally. If done quickly and roughly, they are very cheap; if done carefully, they are very beautiful; so that it is not improbable that glass cameos may be produced extensively as illustrations of the finest specimens of ancient art. It need perhaps scarcely be said, that seal engraving is, in principle, simply the reverse of cameo engraving. The seal is engraved, to use the artistic expression, in At every ball, as you are well aware, there is one pretty girl, in the full bloom of young womanhood, lightfooted and gleesome, and usually dressed in a strikingly handsome style. The gentlemen appear She is a generally to admire her, and two youths persecute her the whole evening with their attentions. painful subject of contemplation to a considerable number of her own sex, matrons as well as maids; but there is even for this sore a salve. You begin, in a poetical rapture, to speak of her to one of these ladies, who quickly settles you with an inquiry, if you mean that showy girl in pink ribbons. Showy girl! Perfect is really loveliness reduced to the epithet showy! Or, if you begin with the decided remark that Miss a lovely young creature, you may be petrified with: 'Oh, do you think so?' followed by: 'I can't say I admire her complexion;' or, 'She has not good eyes;' or, 'Her manner is bad;' some detraction, in short, which may preserve her contemporaries from being utterly beat down by her superiority. The ingenuity which the sex shews in bringing up protectives on such occasions is surprising. Should there be no citable fault just ready, your friend will reply to your remark on the attractiveness of the young beauty: 'And doesn't she know it, too?' as if, though she did, there were any harm in it. The ordinary protection, however, from the superior beauty of these young creatures who flash forth in the ball-room for a season, is the simple word showy. Be always ready with this word, and you are safe. If you are an author whom the public has unaccountably neglected, and hear a very popular one spoken of in terms of admiration, you may save yourself by a very simple expedient. Regret that he is so conceited. This always tells somewhat. If his praises be still pressed, cite his worst books, and state candidly your suspicions that he gets all his best ideas from the Germans. In an extreme case, cut him up in a weekly agreeable and accomplished, are apt to carry away the admiration of the gentlemen. Some one, we shall say, remarks: What a pleasant, accomplished person is Mrs Pennington Plays and sings so well, and always ready to oblige.' Strike in with: 'Oh, but don't you think her very affected?' It is one of the most blessed things in the whole armoury of self-love, that you can always interpret away the brilliant qualities of others as affectation. A pretty woman is taken ill, and becomes a subject of attention-all affectation! A good pianist is asked to play a particular piece, and declares she cannot-all affectation! With a little dexterity, you may bring the most brilliant superiority down to your own level by insinuating-affectation. Sometimes extraordinary mental gifts are accompanied by great artlessness. Never mind that. The artlessness will be sure to exhibit itself in some sort of eccentricity; and this eccentricity can always be plausibly described as affectation. In short, we do not know any bright thing in human nature, that the term affectation, well managed, will not apply to, and do for. Are you a prudent person, who see well to your own comforts, and allow everybody else to see after theirs without any interference on your part; in short, one who has no great character for benevolence? It is very likely that you will occasionally hear persons of an opposite kind much praised for their continual efforts and sacrifices in the cause of humanity; and this is apt to become rather galling, as tending, though indirectly, to set those said persons above yourself. What is to be done here? Set it all down to vanity. Yes, he usually subscribes handsomely-he knows that the money will not be lost.' 'Oh, ay, he rather likes a good case of misery to make a work about-it is so much to credit in the ledger of reputation.' If there be any objection to receiving this view of the matter, call up any circumstance you can remember-and there are sure to be many-in which he shewed himself not quite dead to a sense of his own worldly interest, albeit quite in a legitimate way: cite this as shewing him to be a worldly man, fully relying to be borne out by that wellknown idiosyncrasy of the public, that they never can look on a character in two lights. Thus you pretty effectively dispose of his praises for benevolence, and leave yourself in calm enjoyment of your own reflections on the propriety of never attending to anything but your own interests and gratifications, all else being ' vanity and vexation of spirit.' One cannot here fail to remark what a felicitous arrangement it is in mundane affairs, that the plain, the dull, the unaccomplished, and the selfish, are thus enabled to go on with some degree of comfort, in company with the beautiful, the clever, the accomplished, and the generous, who would otherwise be to them a continual eyesore and pest. In the relations of domestic life, there are numberless occasions when the self-love is invaded; but here, too, by a merciful dispensation, there are always shields and salves to protect and heal. If you have been reproached or chid about anything, to save yourself from too great mortification, and throw back on the censurer some part of your own sufferings, try to reduce the principle on which he proceeds to the absurd. For example, a gentleman hints to his wife disapproval regarding the amount of money she has expended on some particular matter in housekeeping, and expresses some anxiety about her keeping nearer | to a square with his general means and income. Say it is a rather fine family dinner which has excited his remarks. The lady, having at the moment expressed the usual regret that she never can please him, has only to take care next day to have nothing better on the table than boiled mutton and turnips, knowing well enough that it is a dish he dislikes, and that he decidedly prefers a variety of things for dinner. In this way she at once vindicates her taste for economy, and proves to him that he had better not interfere in such matters. Say he has vented a little impatience on having one day had to wait a quarter of an hour in the lobby with a cab at the door, while she lingered at her toilet, engaged in some interesting new experiment upon ringlets or bonnet-ribbons. Her unfailing resource is, next day, to be ready a full hour before the time, and harass him by taps at his dressing-room door, with inquiries if he is not yet coming. Whenever a husband counsels a course of proceedings the reverse of that which his wife has suggested, thus throwing a slur upon her opinions, she, if a woman of any dexterity or judgment, will be at no loss to repay the compliment and something more, by following that said course of his out to a point which he will feel to be inconvenient, or in certain relations of time and place which he never intended, and which will give it an air of folly utterly mortifying to him. For example, if he finds any fault with the way little Harry is dressed when sent to school, and recommends that the poor child should not be quite smothered in greatcoats and comforters, let that youthful scion of the family-tree appear next day in his very thinnest dress, and a mere ribbon-tie at his shirt-neck, notwithstanding its his unlucky observation. If he finds fault with this, being perhaps colder weather than when papa made let him know that you are acting under his directions, as you were led to understand that he preferred very thin dresses for his boy. A few such exemplifications of the reductio ad absurdum, will wear out in almost any husband the disposition to interfere in matters that more properly fall under his wife's jurisdiction, and, what is of more importance to the present question, they will effectually protect the amour propre of the weaker vessel. Servants, who have feelings as well as their mistresses, may follow the same philosophy when they find their self-love in danger. If one has been rebuked by her mistress for the folly of putting on a large fire on a mild morning, she will know how to vindicate herself by putting on a very small fire next morning, albeit it is small fire on a cold morning, she will have a large one a comparatively cold one. Or, say she is chid for a the next, though, from a sudden elevation of the temperature, it is almost impossible to endure any fire in the room at all. This is merely a sample of what a clever servant may do in self-defence with an exacting or unreasonable lady. One of any spirit will be at no loss for similar devices on all suitable occasions. would be quite improper to conceal that there is another We do not pretend to dictate to anybody; but it mode of conduct, totally the reverse of this, which, if it could be followed, would perhaps have a still better effect, at least in the long-run. We refer to the plan, followed by some, of having but a simple regard to what is most beneficial in the circumstances. A wife, for instance, may take a candid thought about her husband's means and tastes, and try to accommodate ing him, she may secure some satisfaction for herself. matters to the best results in both respects. By pleasSo may a servant, by taking a rational view of what is best for the comfort of the family she serves, obtain praise, approval, and, ultimately, higher wages. There CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. is such a thing as duty, and in its performance, many persons of good sense and noble feeling have, it must be admitted, found their highest happiness. This is at anyrate a point worthy of some consideration; and it may perhaps occur to most of our readers that, after all, it may be best to suspend the operations of selflove in the instances of which examples have been given, and try, instead, what may be the effect of simply doing what we ought to do. AN INDIAN TRIP. I HAVE nothing to tell that is more uncommon here than a railway trip from London to Brighton would be with you. But the difference between travelling in India and in England is so remarkable, that it occurs to me to dash down as rapidly as we speeded the impressions of the journey, and try the effect upon good-natured listeners at home. A Some find our servants ready to receive us, and busy preparing breakfast. Two or three of them always left the night-bungalow some hours before we started. cup of tea was very refreshing after our long ride, and then a cool bath, and very often a sleep. The bungalows were disagreeably hot, not having the comforts and conveniences of our Madras home to alleviate the heat. An early dinner of the curry and rice, so delicious a dish in India, and then a chat, with work in hand, brought us on to sunset, when we strolled about for an hour. Tea in the veranda concluded our day, for 'early to bed and early to rise' was our motto. times we made a march in the evening, starting an hour before sunset, and riding along in the dusk till eight or nine o'clock-in the dusk, not in the dark, for it is never dark in India. Thrice we were obliged to One of travel all night, the resting-places being unhealthily situated: no European sleeps in such places if he can possibly avoid it, as fever is certain to ensue. It was in the month of April we left Madras for the these night-marches was rather exciting. The bungalow where we had spent the day was Neilgherry Hills, and right glad we were to forsake the scorching plains for the beautiful Blue Mountains, of situated in a thick jungle, at the foot of a very steep which I had heard so much. Madras was beginning to pass. On riding down this pass in the morning, we were guarded by a peon (a government servant answerbe unbearably hot, though the sea-breeze still set in every afternoon, and made the nights tolerable. The ing to our police-officer), with pistols in his belt, and a first part of our journey was performed in an open car-long spear in his hand. The place was infested with riage; we left the city at ten o'clock at night, the most agreeable time for travelling in India, and, by changing horses every ten or twelve miles, reached Arcot about seven the next morning-a distance of eighty miles. It was delightful rolling along in the bright moonlight-the nights in India are so enjoyable, the air so balmy and soft, and the stillness and silence of the The mere vast plains we traversed so impressive. absence of the sun is delicious; and the bright cold moon shining on us instead, with the brilliant fireflies glittering in every tree, gave a charm to the scene the glare of sunshine would have destroyed. As we stopped at the lonely wayside bungalows to change horses, the horrid cry of the jackal broke on our ears. It is one of the most unpleasant sounds I ever heard, so sharp, so savage, and, as it dies away in the distance, so strangely sad-breaking, too, as it always does, on the stillness of night: often as my ears have been saluted with this sound, I never hear it without a shudder. Our journey from Arcot was continued partly by palanquin, and partly on horseback-the pleasantest way of travelling in India, if one has health and strength. A description of one day's proceedings will be quite sufficient, as they were so much alike, varied only by the different scenery we passed through. We were marching, as it is called, and had our own servants with us. Along the whole route there are public bungalows, stationed about every ten or twelve miles; sometimes more, sometimes less, and always close to a native village, where supplies of milk, rice, or any other simple necessary, may be easily procured. These bungalows are built and supported by government, and have some one always in attendance, very often a pensioned sepoy. They consist generally of two rooms, furnished with tables and chairs, and perhaps a cot, but all of the commonest description; bathingrooms are attached to each of the apartments, sheds in the compound for cooking, and shelter for our steeds. We always started before daylight, in our palanquins; and as soon as the eastern horizon began to brighten, I used to call to my bearers to stop, that I might mount my horse, which was always led by the side of the palanquin, ready for my service. How much I enjoyed these early rides! the morning air so fresh and pure, and the scenery in many parts very agreeable. Sometimes we rode ten miles: the sun was always well up in the heavens before we arrived at the bungalow, for we journeyed very slowly, the roads being generally stony and difficult. We were glad to tigers; and close on the side of our path was a bush During our next night-march we had a little ad- of natives, all talking as fast as they could at the same moment. It was very trying to us, and we were glad when my brother came up and went into the crowd to inquire the cause of the disturbance; my sister and I retreated in the meantime to the shelter of our palkees, for it was quite chilly, and we were only in travelling attire. After a long altercation, we were allowed to go on our way peaceably, although too much excited to sleep after such an alarm, caused, as it turned out, by our servants having insulted some of the village people, which they had resented by an attack upon the hackeries. Of course, our people denied the charge against them; but it was evident that some were in a state of intoxication; and so believing that there were faults on both sides, my brother allowed the affair to pass, although he threatened the insurgents with informing the collector of the district, and having their village burned down. It was on the 1st of May we arrived at the station at the foot of the ghaut, which led us to the Blue Mountains, having accomplished our journey of 300 miles in a fortnight. Very quick marching for India! The day was intensely hot, and we felt truly thankful | it was our last in the low country for some time to come. The next morning we did not start till near sunrise. Wild elephants had been seen in the ghaut a short time previous, and one had attacked a party going up. Fortunately, none of the travellers was hurt; but the palanquin from which a lady had fled, not a moment too soon, was crushed to pieces by the huge animal! With this information, we determined on proceeding cautiously, and by daylight. We rode about five miles through a beautiful wood, and then stopped to break our fast, before commencing the ascent-and a charming breakfast we had, sitting on the ground close to a little stream. I never enjoyed a picnic more. The trees that surrounded us were magnificent, with the rich creepers hanging in clusters from the topmost branches. We were soon mounted again, as we had an ascent of ten miles before us. Although shaded from the sun, it was intensely hot. The scenery was splendid, equal to that of any Highland glen. The path was steep and winding; and every moment new beauties burst on our view. The ravine became steeper as we ascended, its precipitous sides clothed in the fresh and beautiful verdure of the East, among which shone conspicuous the graceful bamboo. Wild-flowers were everywhere around us; and little rills of delicious cold water-a luxury unknown in the plains tempted us to stop every now and then to drink. The hum of insects was almost deafening. About half-way up this lovely ghaut, we stopped to rest during the heat of the day. The bungalow is built on a beautiful spot, close to a waterfall, haunted with the most brilliant butterflies and dragonflies. We rambled about, enchanted with the views around us, which some of the party tried to sketch. After an early dinner and a short siesta, we again mounted our steeds. The path was steeper, but the air began to feel pure and fresh, and vegetation to assume a different character. I was now delighted to observe the fern by the wayside: it looked so homelike-and everything that reminds of home is precious in the eyes of an exile. My brother shot a black monkey here-a horrid-looking animal-and a pretty Malabar squirrel. It was nearly dark when we arrived at the bungalow at Coonoor, where we were to remain all night. We had still ten miles further to go before reaching Ootacamund, our place of destination; were on the hills, and in a climate so different from that of the previous night! Here awaited us a blazing fire, and a substantial English dinner of roast beef and vegetables. Oh, how cold we were that night!-I could scarcely sleep for the cold. We remained at Coonoor till late in the afternoon, enjoying the fine but we scenery around us, and visiting some mulberry plantations, kept here for the rearing of silk-worms. The fruits at Coonoor are delicious; peaches, grapes, and oranges ripening in the open air. Just as we were starting, one of the mountain-storms came on-thunder, lightning, and heavy rain; but in a quarter of an hour it was all over, and the sky bright and blue again. The road, as we neared Ootacamund, became more hilly, and lost the fresh green of Coonoor. Barley grows on some of the slopes near Kathee, a short distance from Ootacamund, where stands a house built by Lord Elphinstone, and where he passed a good deal of his time. It is a pretty spot, but wants shade. The Kathee Pass is steep. Lord Elphinstone endeavoured to cut a new road through it to his house, but was obliged to abandon the attempt. The last steep is ascended, and we gaze on the far-famed Ootacamund. The spire of the pretty little church is the first thing to attract notice. The houses are dotted about the hills in all directions, and in various styles of architecture, from the simple thatched cottage to the white, two-storied, English-looking dwelling. All are surrounded with wood and gardens. We had a steep hill yet to descend, and then to canter up to our pretty new abode, where fires were blazing in every room to welcome us, and where we were thankful to alight, and feel once more at home after our long and varied journey. WEARYFOOT COMMON. CHAPTER VIII. GRAND DOINGS AT WEARYFOOT. THE life of Simple Lodge was very monotonous after the departure of Robert Oaklands. Even the look-out from the windows was dull and dreary, as if the locality had fallen back into the condition in which it had been found, at a comparatively recent period, by the enterprise and industry of men. This condition was as desolate as can well be imagined. The distance was many miles from any town, or even any considerable village; on one side a natural wood covered a great part of the district; on the other was an undulating region of sand and gravel; and in the middle, skirted by the lonely road, lay an expanse of level ground overrun with coarse vegetation. From time immemorial this expanse was traversed diagonally by a footpaththe short cut already mentioned-by means of which many generations of wayfarers curtailed a little their circumstance that the place came to be known by the dreary journey; and it was owing, probably, to this appropriate name of Wearyfoot Common. The first house that arose in the neighbourhood was the Hall, built by an ancestor-not very remote-of Mr Seacole. This gentleman bought a pretty extensive tract of land for a trifle, and chose a spot close by the Common for the seat of his family. Gradually some houses of less pretension arose in the neighbourhood, extending in line, with garden enclosures between, along the side of the Common, and simultaneously with them a public-house started up on the opposite side, at the entrance of the footpath, and was immediately followed by a gradually lengthening line of small habitations, known as the village of Wearyfoot. The first built of the range of comparatively aristocratic dwellings, and the nearest to the Hall, was Semple Lodge, so called by the captain, who purchased it on his retirement from active service: and to this house the story now returns, to note what the inmates have been about since it left them. Sara's heart had been a good deal roused and alarmed |