“I’ve been chased by the terriblest bull you ever saw,” he whispered confidentially to Wyllys Wynn, as he passed him. “I’ll tell you all about it some time.”
“And that ain’t all. I’ve been chased by John Bull, too.”
PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.
Ernest Wynn went, under an arrangement made for him by Master Lewis, to the Peak near Castleton, wishing to view the scene of Sir Walter Scott’s charming romance, “Peveril of the Peak.” He found there only a pitiful ruin, and instead of knights with dancing plumes and silver shields, with which fancy pictures the eyry of the grand old Norman baron, he met some very strange-looking mining people, who are often to be seen in the rural districts in this part of England.
One incident touched Frank’s kind heart, and seemed more to impress him than the associations of manorial splendor he had made the journey to see.
