PIRTON COURT.

From the hall, we pass up the great oak staircase to bedrooms and corridors containing chests and cabinets full of ancient deeds and manuscripts, not the least remarkable of which is a parchment roll upon which is painted a series of mysterious astrological and other pictures, supposed once upon a time to have been the property of the necromancer Dr. John Dee, who lived for some time in the neighbouring town of Upton-on-Severn. If this is really a document of Dr. Dee's, one would like to see it preserved with the famous crystal in the British Museum. The old presses and cupboards are full of the richly embroidered bed-hangings and homespun sheets wrought by the ladies of the house in the days when their energies were devoted to domestic purposes, and the idea of hockey or ladies' clubs would have made their hair to stand erect. There are piles of arras carefully packed away when wall-paper came in fashion. There are chairs and tables dating back three centuries or more, and mirrors which have reflected fair faces patched, with head-gear piled up mountain high.

SEVERN END.

In a corner stands a spinning-wheel, distaff, and reel complete, as if some dainty damsel at work had fled at the approach of footsteps; and there beyond is a dusty pillion which conjures up a picture of Mistress Lane seated behind "Will Jackson" upon their way to Bristol. The ancient glass and china, too, would whet the appetite of the most exacting connoisseur. But we must not linger longer, or we shall envy these choice possessions.

SEVERN END.