most ignobly carried, having had the misfortune to lose a shoe in
the mud, which we left the boy to look after.

Here we are at home--dripping; but glowing and laughing, and bearing
our calamity most manfully. May, a dog of excellent sense, went
instantly to bed in the stable, and is at this moment over head and
ears in straw; Lizzy is gone to bed too, coaxed into that wise
measure by a promise of tea and toast, and of not going home till
to-morrow, and the story of Little Red Riding Hood; and I am
enjoying the luxury of dry clothing by a good fire. Really getting
wet through now and then is no bad thing, finery apart; for one
should not like spoiling a new pelisse, or a handsome plume; but
when there is nothing in question but a white gown and a straw
bonnet, as was the case to-day, it is rather pleasant than not. The
little chill refreshes, and our enjoyment of the subsequent warmth
and dryness is positive and absolute. Besides, the stimulus and
exertion do good to the mind as well as body. How melancholy I was
all the morning! how cheerful I am now! Nothing like a shower-bath-
-a real shower-bath, such as Lizzy and May and I have undergone, to
cure low spirits. Try it, my dear readers, if ever ye be nervous--I
will answer for its success.



THE OLD HOUSE AT ABERLEIGH.

June 25th.--What a glowing glorious day! Summer in its richest
prime, noon in its most sparkling brightness, little white clouds
dappling the deep blue sky, and the sun, now partially veiled, and
now bursting through them with an intensity of light! It would not