The Squire of Sandal-Side

ed of men, this

o

fore us lies

prime w

of virtue ... be quie

house of the same name. It is some miles distant from the foot of the mountain, snugly sheltered in one of the loveliest valleys between Coniston and Torver. No one knows when the first stones of this house were laid. The Sandals were in Sandal-Side when the white-handed, waxen-faced Edward was building Westminster Abbey, and William the Nor

and thwaite, from "thveit," a clearing. It is certain, also, that, in spite of much Anglo-Saxon admixture, the salt blood of the roving Viking is still in the Cumberland dalesman. Centuries of bucolic isolation have not obliterated it. Every no

enclosed "thwaites" of greater or less extent; and, forgetting the world in his green paradise, was for centuries almost forgotten by the world. And if long de

ation has written out portions of a saga,-long orally transmitted,-which relates the incidents of his voyage. All the Sandals believe implicitly in its authenticity; and, indeed, though it is full of f

ed the massive blocks, and eyes accustomed to great expanses that measured off the large and lofty space. Smaller rooms have been built above it and around i

d. In the strength of these hills, the very spirit of the Reformation was cradled. From among them came the Wyckliffite queen of Henry the Eighth, and the noble confessor and apostle Bernard Gilpin. No lover of Protestantism can afford to forget the man who refused the bishopric of Carlisle, and a provostship at Oxford, that he migh

hipped "in temples not made with hands." In the solemn "high places" they had learned to interpret the voices of winds and waters; and among the stupendous crags, more like clouds at sunset than fragments of solid

d, the Earl of Derwentwater, was beheaded for aiding the unfortunate family; and the hills and waters around are sad with the memories of his lady's heroic efforts and suff

that he would deeply offend old L?gberg Sandal, and perhaps all the rest of his ancestral wraiths, if he merged their ancient name in that of Baron of Torver. The sentiment was one the German King of England could u

that strange journey awakened in the mountain lord some old spirit of adventure and curiosity. He came home by the ocean, and perceived that he had only half lived be

and how to choose its friends. Towards the close of the eighteenth century, an opportune loan again set the doors of the Ho

heads in a coronet. Happen, I am a bit opinion-tied, but it's over late to

nning-wheels hummed by the kitchen-fire, and their shuttles glided deftly in the weaving-room, many a year after Manchester cottons were cheap and plentiful. But they were pleasant, kindly women, who did wonderful needlework, and made all kinds of dainty dishes and cordials and sirups. They were famous florists and gardeners, and the very neatest of hous

hitehaven. She had been finely educated. She had lived in large cities, and been to court. She dressed elegantly; she had a piano and much grand furniture brought over the hills to San

went away in a passion one morning, and never came back, the heir was a good son, and the two girls made splendid marriages. On the whole, she could feel that she had done well to her generation. Even after she had been long dead, the old wom

in her hand a bunch of white roses. She appears to be coming down a flight of wide stairs; one foot is lifted for the descent, and the dark background, and the dim light in which it hangs, give to the illusion an almost startling reality. It was her fancy to h

it, and said with tender respect, "I salute thee, mother." And in her granddaughter's lives still she interfered; for she had left in their father's charge a sum of money, which was to be used solely to give them some pleasur

sake, had been ever patient and reticent. Nothing is, indeed, more remarkable than the patience of wives under this particular trial. They may be restive under many far less wrongs, but they bear the mother-in-law grievance with a dignity which shames the grim joking and the petulant abuse of men towards the same relationship. And for many years the yo

to give him comparable, in his eyes, with the simple, dignified pleasures incident to his position as Squire of Sandal-Side. For dearly he loved the old hall, with its sheltering sycamores and oaks,-oaks which had been young trees when the knights lying in Furness Abbey led the Grasmere

e Sandal, though flushed and rumpled looking, had still the air of drippy mornings and hazy afternoons about him. There was a creel at his back, and a fishing-r

showed traces of green, spongy grass, and lichen-covered rocks. But her face was a joy to see: she had such bright eyes, such a kind, handsome mouth, such a cheerful voice, suc

will say if she sees me,

's rather high, you know. And we'

s in life better than persuading a fine trout to go

ou know, if you can only persuade one to go down stream a bit with you, there's not much di

the side-door, father. I mig

one nothing wrong, and I'm ready to stand by you, my dear; and

e I know,

nd clouds

s well an

, red a

d wily

true

plover

gaudy

obweb t

rossthwaite will land you a trout, three pounds weight, with a line that wouldn't lift

, some day; see if

pare herself for the evening meal. She gave one quick glance at her grandmother's picture as she passed it, a glance of mingled deprecation and annoyance; fo

ed silk, to fall in wavy, curly masses; and the printed gown was exchanged for one of the finest muslin, pink and flowing, and pinned together with bows of pale blue satin. A daring combination, which precisely suited her blonde, brilliant beauty. Her eyes were shining; her cheeks touched by the sun till they had the c

n, Char

you know

s far too polite to yawn; but she made as much of the movement as she could not control, and then put a mark in her book, and laid it

sposition was dreamy and self-willed; occult studies fascinated her, and she was passionately fond of moonlight. She was simply dressed in a white muslin frock, with a black ribbon around her slim waist; but the ribbon was clasped by a buckle of heavily chased gold, and her f

n, you and father,

by Holler Beck. We caught a creel ful

y, you

eally;

aid the words with the air of one who rather states a fact than asks a question; a

hip in this life does not

; and I don't believe it. There, now! Come, dear, let us go to dinner; I'm that hungry I'm fit to drop." For Charlotte w

oak chambers. And in both rooms the draperies of the beds, chairs, and windows were of white dimity. But in Sophia's, there were many pictures, souvenirs of girlhood's friendships, needlework, finished and unfinished drawings, and a great number of books mostly on subjects not usually attractive to young women. Charlotte's room ha

as it is, stands the wear and tug of life with a wonderful tenacity. Down the broad, oak stairway they sauntered together; Charlotte's tall, erect figure, bright,

hters; and he gave his right arm to Sophia, and slipped his left hand into C

d one of the crisp brown trout from its b

ill Farm to-morrow. John of Middle Barra called wi

t now; he was my father's crony; if I slighted him, I should feel as

all promised for the fleece-folding; and it's a

Charlotte wi

"I shall have a headache to-morrow, I fear; I

esn't know what. If you plan for to-morrow, plan a bit of pleasure with it; that'

walking in the heat. I like it; and I think the

ic!" murmured Sophia

on reedy pipes, and Chald?an shepherds studying the stars, and those on Jud?a's hills who hear

sterly reminder, added calmly, "I met Mr. Wordsworth to-day, father. He had co

is a great man now, but I remember well when people thought he w

, squire. She li

; and she said, 'He's canny enough at times. Mostly he's wandering up and down t' hills, talki

sides Nancy Butterworth," said Sophia warmly; "but he is a g

re in our affairs. We'll go up to Latriggs in the a

nly quiet. The squire glanced at her, but without curiosity; he only thought, "What