Concord there are, if not oaks, yet certainly elms, a great deal more
stately and beautiful. But, on the whole, this lawn, and the old Hall in
the midst of it, went a good way towards realizing some of my fancies of
English life.

By and by a footman, looking very quaint and queer in his livery coat,
drab breeches, and white stockings, came to invite me to the table, where
I found Mr. B. and his sisters and guests sitting at the fruit and wine.
There were port, sherry, madeira, and one bottle of claret, all very
good; but they take here much heavier wines than we drink now in America.
After a tolerably long session we went to the tea-room, where I drank
some coffee, and at about the edge of dusk the carriage drew up to the
door to take us home. Mr. B. and his sisters have shown us genuine
kindness, and they gave us a hearty invitation to come and ramble over
the house whenever we pleased, during their absence in Scotland. They
say that there are many legends and ghost-stories connected with the
house; and there is an attic chamber, with a skylight, which is called
the Martyr's chamber, from the fact of its having, in old times, been
tenanted by a lady, who was imprisoned there, and persecuted to death for
her religion. There is an old black-letter library, but the room
containing it is shut, barred, and padlocked,--the owner of the house
refusing to let it be opened, lest some of the books should be stolen.
Meanwhile the rats are devouring them, and the damps destroying them.


August 9th.--A pretty comfortable day, as to warmth, and I believe there
is sunshine overhead; but a sea-cloud, composed of fog and coal-smoke,
envelops Liverpool. At Rock Ferry, when I left it at half past nine,
there was promise of a cheerful day. A good many gentlemen (or, rather,
respectable business people) came in the boat, and it is not unpleasant,