"Neither should I, had it been a personal matter; but one must consider one's successor. If a precedent were once established, it might lead to much trouble." And to this there seemed to be no reply! After dinner, when the neighboring parson had left, Mr. Sanford suggested a "look round." Ruth said she had some letters to write, which in England means a nap, so we started off together. In my ignorance I supposed a "look round" meant a stroll about the place. I soon found it meant something more like what we call a "hike." There is a wide-spread impression among Americans that England is a small place. Let any one go with an English gentleman after a good Sunday dinner, for a "look round," and I venture to say he will change his mind! I suppose I am "soft" from motoring, but I know I was "all in" when we at length reached home. But my host, no longer a young man, seemed as fresh as when we started. He had been much amused by my attempts to make up to a farmer, whom we met--also "taking a look round." We were crossing a beautiful field, in which were some noble oaks whose wide-spread branches cast so deep a shadow that it looked black, and, by way of making myself agreeable, I remarked to him: "I have been telling Mr. Sanford how much I admire your trees. You must be proud of them." "Aye, they look well to a town dweller, but I never notice them except at hayin', and then I wish they was anywhere else." "But you turn your cattle into this field sometimes, I suppose, and they must enjoy the shade on a hot day." "Well, if they stand under one of them on a hot day, they'll be in a draft, and get a chill, and maybe die." This certainly was not encouraging, but I did not know enough to stop. Just then some heifers came nosing around, and I said: "That's a beautiful heifer." "Which one?" said the farmer. "The white one," said I. "I wish you lived about here and I could sell her to you. No _farmer_ would buy her." "Why not?" said I. "We think the white ones is 'saft,'" he replied. This, as I say, gave great satisfaction to Mr. Sanford, who recounted it at tea with great gusto. The servants all went to evening service, but the family did not, so I "wrote letters"! Supper was served at nine o'clock, and then all the servants came in for prayers--"cook" first, and the kitchen-maid last, the butler standing aside to close the door, and then solemnly taking his place. Mr. Sanford read a chapter, and after that a beautiful prayer that all might be faithful in their duties, kind, and considerate to one another, honor the King and love the church. Then Mrs. Sanford took her place at the harmonium and played several hymns, in which all the servants joined--I thought the footman's tenor worthy of a church choir, and I suspect he thought so too! and I am sure the housemaid agreed with us both! Altogether the singing was beautiful.