the future in the present better than if I had been an Englishman; so I
questioned with myself how many of these ruddy-cheeked young fellows,
marching so stoutly away, would ever tread English ground again. The
populace did not evince any enthusiasm, yet there could not possibly be a
war to which the country could assent more fully than to this. I
somewhat doubt whether the English populace really feels a vital interest
in the nation.

Some years ago, a piece of rude marble sculpture, representing St. George
and the Dragon, was found over the fireplace of a cottage near Rock
Ferry, on the road to Chester. It was plastered over with pipe-clay, and
its existence was unknown to the cottagers, until a lady noticed the
projection and asked what it was. It was supposed to have originally
adorned the walls of the Priory at Birkenhead. It measured fourteen and
a half by nine inches, in which space were the heads of a king and queen,
with uplifted hands, in prayer; their daughters also in prayer, and
looking very grim; a lamb, the slain dragon, and St. George, proudly
prancing on what looks like a donkey, brandishing a sword over his head.

The following is a legend inscribed on the inner margin of a curious old
box:--

"From Birkenhead into Hilbree
A squirrel might leap from tree to tree."

I do not know where Hilbree is; but all round Birkenhead a squirrel would
scarcely find a single tree to climb upon. All is pavement and brick
buildings now.