How often have I played under these trees when a boy! I feel a degree of
filial reverence for them, as we look up to those who have cherished us
in childhood. My father was always scrupulous in exacting our holidays,
and having us around him on family festivals. He used to direct and
superintend our games with the strictness that some parents do the
studies of their children. He was very particular that we should play
the old English games according to their original form and consulted
old books for precedent and authority for every 'merrie disport;' yet I
assure you there never was pedantry so delightful. It was the policy
of the good old gentleman to make his children feel that home was the
happiest place in the world; and I value this delicious home-feeling as
one of the choicest gifts a parent can bestow."

We were interrupted by the clangour of a troop of dogs of all sorts and
sizes, "mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, and curs of low degree," that,
disturbed by the ringing of the porter's bell, and the rattling of the
chaise, came bounding, open-mouthed, across the lawn.

"The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart--see, they bark at me!"

cried Bracebridge, laughing. At the sound of his voice the bark was
changed into a yelp of delight, and in a moment he was surrounded and
almost overpowered by the caresses of the faithful animals.

We had now come in full view of the old family mansion, partly thrown
in deep shadow, and partly lit up by the cold moonshine. It was
an irregular building of some magnitude, and seemed to be of the
architecture of different periods. One wing was, evidently very ancient,
with heavy stone-shafted bow windows jutting out and overrun with ivy,