REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. Nay, sir, I know not. I do not pry into these
matters. I am, for my own part, very well satisfied with the young
gentleman. Let those who are not so look to themselves. It is
quite enough for me that he came down last night from London, and
that he had the good sense to bring with him a basket of lobsters.
Sir, I wish you a good morning.

The stranger having returned the reverend gentleman's good morning,
resumed his sketch, and was intently employed on it when Mr.
Crotchet made his appearance with Mr. Mac Quedy and Mr. Skionar,
whom he was escorting round his grounds, according to his custom
with new visitors; the principal pleasure of possessing an
extensive domain being that of showing it to other people. Mr. Mac
Quedy, according also to the laudable custom of his countrymen, had
been appraising everything that fell under his observation; but, on
arriving at the Roman camp, of which the value was purely
imaginary, he contented himself with exclaiming: "Eh! this is just
a curiosity, and very pleasant to sit in on a summer day."

MR. SKIONAR. And call up the days of old, when the Roman eagle
spread its wings in the place of that beechen foliage. It gives a
fine idea of duration, to think that that fine old tree must have
sprung from the earth ages after this camp was formed.

MR. MAC QUEDY. How old, think you, may the tree be?

MR. CROTCHET. I have records which show it to be three hundred
years old.

MR. MAC QUEDY. That is a great age for a beech in good condition.