We had seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of four or five
immense button-wood trees, which effectually sheltered us from the
scorching rays of the sun. In the centre of the group, the union-jack
of Old-England waved gracefully above our heads--

"The flag that braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze."

As soon as we had eaten and drunk to our satisfaction, a dance was
proposed and acceded to by the party. The band struck up "The Wind
Shakes the Barley:" country dances, Scotch reels, and "French fours,"
were kept up with great spirit on the level turf--"All under the
greenwood tree."

"For all that day to the rebeck gay
They danced with frolicsome swains."

Those of our party who did not patronize the dance, amused themselves
with ball-playing and a variety of old English games.

The day was lovely; and the spot chosen for our sports is one of the
most beautiful natural meadows I ever beheld. We kept our fete in
honour of King William on a smooth green semi-circular meadow, of large
extent, ornamented here-and-there with clumps of magnificent button-
wood trees.* Towards the north, skirting the meadow, a steep bank rises
in the form of an amphitheatre, thickly-wooded--tree above tree, from
the base to the crown of the ridge. The rapid waters of the Maitland
form the southern and western boundary of this charming spot,--then not
a little enhanced by the merry groups which dotted the surface of the
meadow, and woke its lone echoes with music and song.