net-work of wrinkled smiles accompanied the delivery of one of the old man’s homilies; and amusing enough were the landmarks which memory set up for giving to each event its place in point of time. Of red-lettered ever-to-be-remembered occurrences in the village the more prominent were the phenomena of the land-slip at the Birches, and the land-flood at the Dale. We still see the old man drawing slowly from his mouth a long pipe, still more slowly letting out a wreath of fragrant smoke, as speaking of the latter he would say:— “I remember well; it was autumn, the berries were ripe on the hedge, and fruits were mellow in the field; we had a funeral that day at Madeley, it was on the 6th of September, 1801. The air was close. A thin steamy vapour swam along the valley, and a dense, fog-looking cloud hung in the sky. The mist spread, and drops like ripe fruit when you shake a tree came down suddenly. The leaves on every tree trembled, we could hear them quake; and the cattle hung down their heads to their fetlocks. The wind blew by fits and starts in different directions, and waves of cold air succeeded warm. Dull rushing sounds, sharp crackling thunderclaps were heard, and streams of fire could be seen—like molten iron at casting time—running in and out among the clouds. Up the valley, driving dust and sticks and stones, came on a roaring wind with pelting rain. Another current moved in a different direction; they met where the black cloud stood, and striking it both sides at once, it dropped like a sponge filled with water, but large as the Wrekin. In a moment houses and fields and woods were flooded by a deluge, and a rushing torrent from the hills came driving everything before it with a roar louder than the great blast or the splash of the great wheel. Lightnings flashed, thunders roared, and before the echo of one peal died you heard another—as if it were the crack of doom. Down came the brooks, the louder where they met, snapping trees, carrying bridges, stones, and stacks of wood. Houses were inundated in an instant, gardens were swept away, and women and children were carried from windows through the boiling flood. Fiercer came the rush and higher swelled the stream, forcing the dam of the great pool; timber snapped like glass, stones were tossed like corks, and driven against buildings that in turn gave way. Steam then came hissing up from the furnace as the water neared and sought entrance to the works. The elements met; it was a battle for a time; the water driven with great force from behind was soon brought into contact with the liquid iron, and then came the climax! Thunders from below answered to those above; water converted into gas caused one loud terrific explosion that burst the strongest bars, shattered the stoutest walls, drove back the furious