There was something rather indicative of poetical taste than musical
science in the selection of this vesper hymn, which always commenced
with,--

"'T is merry, 't is merry, in good green wood,"

and never proceeded a syllable further than the end of the second
line,--

"when birds are about and singing;"

from the last word of which, after a brief pause, it invariably
started forth into joyous "iteration."

Presently a heavier, yet still more rapid, step than that of the youth
was heard behind; and, as it overtook the latter, a loud, clear, good-
humoured voice gave the salutation of the evening. The tone in which
this courtesy was returned was frank, distinct, and peculiarly
harmonious.

"Good evening, my friend. How far is it to W----? I hope I am not
out of the direct road?"

"To W----, sir?" said the man, touching his hat, as he perceived, in
spite of the dusk, something in the air and voice of his new
acquaintance which called for a greater degree of respect than he was
at first disposed to accord to a pedestrian traveller,--"to W----,
sir? why, you will not surely go there to-night? it is more than
eight miles distant, and the roads none of the best"