from Dollar Law to Broadlaw! And then the moorland grass! Never finer. . . . 'Oh the splendour of the grass'!" It was of Manor Valley that he exclaimed :—

"Life's deeds and words here fade and pale,
Thou dreamland of my living years.

The memories of the higher self,

All that the grave can never claim,

All that the immortal cares to keep-
This thou alone for me canst name."

But still nearer home, at his very doorstep, the same kind of feeling prevails

"Each chequered pane hath its own heaven;"

and from the "book-room" so familiar to his friends, where he always worked, he looked out on a favourite sycamore

"The figure always 'gainst the void,

To me more than a human friend."

Not less so was the pine

"That under open sky unsheltered draws
Its spirit from the blast."

Part of the charm of the summer life lay in the coming home from his rambles, often at eccentric hours, and with utter disregard of gongs and dinner. and dinner. He would catch the down in the High

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moon-eyed clock" far