"It was rather different going to school in those days!" declared Mrs. Pitt. "The hours were very long, the lessons hard, and the masters strict, and not unwilling to use the rod for the slightest misdemeanor. There have been terrible stories of boys being much hurt, or even killed as a result of this practice. The pupils sat on narrow benches, their heavy books propped up before them on long tables. It must have been very hard to stay here in this dark room and listen to the master's voice reciting monotonous Latin, while birds sang and the fair world of an English summer was just out of reach. If Shakespeare was a real boy,--and we think he was--he was surely describing his own feelings when he wrote the lines in 'As You Like It' about: 'The whining schoolboy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school,--'" As they had already walked a good deal that day, Mrs. Pitt found a carriage, and they drove to Trinity Church and the Shakespeare Memorial. On the way, the driver pointed out the home of Marie Corelli, the writer. It is an attractive, square house, which presents a very gay appearance, with a box of bright flowers on every window-ledge. Trinity Church stands close beside the picturesque Avon. The waters flow gently against the rushes, making a soft music, and the breeze just stirs the leaves of the tall trees which keep guard over the graves in the church-yard. One feels something of the peace and quiet of Stoke Poges, but here the presence,--or, rather, the memory--of the great Shakespeare hovers over all, and every one hastens inside to see the tomb. The church is ancient--in part dating from the twelfth century--and it contains many interesting monuments, but somehow the whole seems like one huge memorial to Shakespeare. On the floor, at one side of the chancel, is the slab which marks the Poet's grave, and which bears the famous epitaph, said to have been written by himself: "Good frend; for Jesus' sake forbeare To digg the dust encloased heare; Bleste be y{e} man y{e} spares thes stones, And curst be he y{t} moves my bones." On the wall above the tomb is the monument,--a bust of Shakespeare, on which the original colors have recently been restored. Nearby are buried Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare's wife, his daughter, Susanna Hall, and her husband, and other members of the family. For some minutes our party stood quietly looking over the altar-rail at the grave and its inscription, but finally, the arrival of some loud-voiced, laughing tourists, who conscientiously made fun of everything they saw, caused them to turn away.