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OUR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT.

got his friend Ward, who came on with us, to order a bouquet for me, and the first thing I saw in my room, was a lovely one, with 'Robert Lennox's compliments,' on the card. Wasn't that fun, girls? I like travelling.

"I never shall get to London if I don't hurry. The trip was like riding through a long picture-gallery, full of lovely landscapes. The farm-houses were my delight; with thatched roofs, ivy up to the eaves, latticed windows, and stout women with rosy children at the doors. The very cattle looked more tranquil than ours, as they stood knee-deep in clover, and the hens had a contented cluck, as if they never got nervous, like Yankee biddies. Such perfect color I never saw—the grass so green, sky so blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark—I was in a rapture all the way. So was Flo; and we kept bouncing from one side to the other, trying to see everything while we were whisking along at the rate of sixty miles an hour. Aunt was tired, and went to sleep, but uncle read his guide-book, and wouldn't be astonished at anything. This is the way we went on: Amy flying up,—'Oh, that must be Kenilworth, that gray place among the trees!' Flo darting to my window,—'How sweet; we must go there some time, won't we, pa?' Uncle calmly admiring his boots,—'No my dear, not unless you want beer; that's a brewery.'

"A pause,—then Flo cried out, 'Bless me, there's a gallows and a man going up.' 'Where, where!' shrieks Amy, staring out at two tall posts with a crossbeam, and some dangling chains. 'A colliery,' remarks uncle, with a twinkle of the eye. 'Here's a lovely flock of lambs all lying down,' says Amy.