I shall pass over several more such indications of temporary tastes of
the Squire's predecessors; but I cannot forbear to notice a pair of
antlers in the great hall, which is one of the trophies of a
hard-riding squire of former times, who was the Nimrod of these parts.
There are many traditions of his wonderful feats in hunting still
existing, which are related by old Christy, the huntsman, who gets
exceedingly nettled if they are in the least doubted. Indeed, there is
a frightful chasm, a few miles from the Hall, which goes by the name
of the Squire's Leap, from his having cleared it in the ardour of the
chase; there can be no doubt of the fact, for old Christy shows the
very dints of the horse's hoofs on the rocks on each side of the
chasm.

Master Simon holds the memory of this squire in great veneration, and
has a number of extraordinary stories to tell concerning him, which he
repeats at all hunting dinners; and I am told that they wax more and
more marvellous the older they grow. He has also a pair of Rippon
spurs which belonged to this mighty hunter of yore, and which he only
wears on particular occasions.

The place, however, which abounds most with mementos of past times, is
the picture gallery; and there is something strangely pleasing, though
melancholy, in considering the long rows of portraits which compose
the greater part of the collection. They furnish a kind of narrative
of the lives of the family worthies, which I am enabled to read with
the assistance of the venerable housekeeper, who is the family
chronicler, prompted occasionally by Master Simon. There is the
progress of a fine lady, for instance, through a variety of portraits.
One represents her as a little girl, with a long waist and hoop,