on a bright autumnal morning, the blue smoke curling gently heavenwards from its brown thatched roofs, as they peeped out here and there among the trees. Not a jarring note could I hear, not even the clang of the blacksmith's hammer or the woodman's axe; all was silent and still, nought save the happy voice of childhood playing in the "boughy" dells, a sound which rather increased than disturbed the deep repose of the scene.
And such has been its aspect for ages; here generation after generation has—
"Lived and died,
Passing a dreamy life, diversified
By nought of novelty, save now and then
A horn resounding through the neighbouring glen."
But the New Forest affords sights infinitely varied, and changing with every season of the year. It was early autumn when I was there; and the lovely effects of light and shade, the marvellous forms of the gnarled oaks, the huge and rugged hollies, glowing blood-red with their wealth of berries, the brake, all russet and golden, and the sweeps of distant moorland crowned by forest after forest, would make one wonder how it was the dwellers amongst such beauteous scenes were not a race of artists, if we did not remember that it is but rare to find a man who has the "open eye."
Passing through Minestead, I went into a cottage; it was very small, but neat, and its sanded floor gave it a fresh and bright look. The biggest thing in the house was the great chimney. A fire was burning on the hearth, lying on flat iron bars, with two ancient fire-dogs in front; a tall clock ornamented the room. The old dame said they no longer burned turf, for her husband had never put in his claim when he ought to have done, and so they had lost their right; but she did not think it was much of a loss, since they had had to pay heavily for cutting and carting the turf; and besides, it took up so much room. They got their living by keeping cows. Coming out, I noted the beautiful form of the pitchers in use in the Forest, and saw the same make again in Dorset.
On I wandered, down lanes laden with blackberries, and on the outskirts of the village sketched two of its cots. They were good types of all the rest; the thick thatch coming deep down over the
