Welton Hall is pleasantly situated, overlooking the water. It is built entirely of Wall-stones, and the oldest part is a pele-tower. The initials and date--"W.W.--1614"--over the lintel of the back-door, commemorate the building of the more recent {58} portion by Will of Welton, a sort of modern Samson. Sitting outside the tower one day, when old and blind, he called a ploughboy to him, and wanted to feel his arm, to test its strength. The boy, afraid of being hurt, held out the iron plough-coulter instead of his arm, and Will promptly snapped it in two, remarking, "Men's banes are naught but girsels (gristles) to what they were in my day." A servant-girl was sitting sewing outside the back-door as I drew near. In answer to my inquiry, she said there was no village, only a farm, but I might perhaps get a bed there. Outside the farm-gate was a little group of boys, playing quoits with large rusty iron rings. Inside the yard I found a busy scene. Several women were occupied in painting, beating or cleaning furniture of various kinds, which was all spread out in the farm-yard. One of them was painting a kitchen bench and table Indian red. Very tentatively I made my request. "Don't ye see that we are busy spring-cleaning?" was the reply, but in no unkindly tone. Indeed, I did see, only too well; and I also saw, with my mind's eye, another mile and a half of road stretching out before me, and the night coming down, so I beat a retreat as quickly as I could. How tiresome I must have seemed to those busy women!