At length we turned off the Highway into a Bye-road, shaded with tall Trees, which, after a Mile or two, brought us to a straggling Village; and, says the Coachman, “Mistress, now we’s in Bucklands.” Presently we passed the absolutest curiosity of a little old Church!... it seemed hardly bigger than a Nutmeg-grater!—and hard by it, the old Parsonage, with three Stone Peaks in front, and a great Pear-Tree before the Door.
Then we came to a Village Green, with a Clump of large Trees in the Midst, that had Seats round them, whereon sat old Men, while young Men played Cricket, and little Boys were setting a Puppy to bark at some white Geese. Here we came to a great Iron Gate, at which stood a hale, hearty-looking Gentleman about fifty; square-built, and not over-tall; with a good-humoured, red, mottled Face. And, says he, coming up to me, as we stopped, “Mistress Cherry, I’m Squire Blower. I can guess who you are, though my Brother did not tell me you were such a pretty Girl.—Oh, the Sinner!” And lifted me off the Horse.
“Well,” says he, “you don’t look quite sure that I’s I.... I am, though! Certainly, not much like Nat, who was always the Beauty of the Family. Ah! now you laugh, which was just what I wanted. My Brother said your silver Laugh saved his Life;—do you know what he meant by that?”
We were now walking up a strait gravel Walk, between clipped Hedges, to an old red-brick House, with stone Facings. “I suppose, Sir,” said I, after thinking a little, “he meant that my laughing was as good as Silver to him, because it saved him the Doctor.”
“That was it, no doubt,” returns he; “just such an Answer, Mistress Cherry, as I expected. I see we shall get on very well together, though Nat is not here to help the Acquaintance.—He has gone to see his old Foster-mother, who is dying. People will die, you know, when they get to eighty or ninety.”
An old red-brick House
We were now going up a Flight of shallow Steps, with Stone Ballusters, which led us into a Hall, paved with great Diamonds of black and white Marble, and hung about with Guns, Fishing-rods, and Stag’s Horns. An Almanack and King Charles’s golden Rules were pasted against the Wall; and a stuffed Otter in a Glass Case hung over the great Fire-place, where a Wood-fire burned on the Hearth.
Before this Wood-fire was spread a small Turkey Carpet; and on the Carpet stood a Table and four heavy Chairs; in one of which sat an old Lady knitting. The Squire bluntly accosted her with “Mother, here’s Mistress Cherry;” on which she said, “Ho!”—laid down her Knitting, and looked hard at me; first over, and then through her Spectacles.
“Hum!” says she, “Mistress Cherry, you are welcome. A good Day to you. Pray make yourself at Home, and be seated.”