stands a trifle back and is covered thickly with ivy, while over the
entrance-door of the shop is a great round clock set in a green frame of
clustering vine. The hands pointed to one when I passed the watchmaker's
garden with its thicket of fragrant lavender and its murmuring bees; so I
went in to the sign of the "Strong i' the Arm" for some cold luncheon,
determining to patronise "The Running Footman" at the very next
opportunity. Neither of these inns is starred by Baedeker, and this fact
adds the last touch of enchantment to the picture.

The landlady at the "Strong i' the Arm" stabbed me in the heart by
telling me that there were no apartments to let in the village, and that
she had no private sitting-room in the inn; but she speedily healed the
wound by saying that I might be accommodated at one of the farm-houses in
the vicinity. Did I object to a farm-'ouse? Then she could cheerfully
recommend the Evan's farm, only 'alf a mile away. She 'ad understood
from Miss Phoebe Evan, who sold her poultry, that they would take one
lady lodger if she didn't wish much waiting upon.

In my present mood I was in search of the strenuous life, and eager to
wait, rather than to be waited upon; so I walked along the edge of the
Green, wishing that some mentally unbalanced householder would take a
sudden fancy to me and ask me to come in and lodge awhile. I suppose
these families live under their roofs of peach-blow tiles, in the midst
of their blooming gardens, for a guinea a week or thereabouts; yet if
they "undertook" me (to use their own phrase), the bill for my humble
meals and bed would be at least double that. I don't know that I blame
them; one should have proper compensation for admitting a world-stained
lodger into such an Eden.

When I was searching for rooms a week ago, I chanced upon a pretty