CHAPTER I. THE VERDURER'S LODGE



"Give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with
that I will go buy me fortunes."
"Get you with him, you old dog."

As You Like It.


The officials of the New Forest have ever since the days of the
Conqueror enjoyed some of the pleasantest dwellings that southern
England can boast.

The home of the Birkenholt family was not one of the least
delightful. It stood at the foot of a rising ground, on which grew
a grove of magnificent beeches, their large silvery boles rising
majestically like columns into a lofty vaulting of branches, covered
above with tender green foliage. Here and there the shade beneath
was broken by the gilding of a ray of sunshine on a lower twig, or
on a white trunk, but the floor of the vast arcades was almost
entirely of the russet brown of the fallen leaves, save where a fern
or holly bush made a spot of green. At the foot of the slope lay a
stretch of pasture ground, some parts covered by "lady-smocks, all
silver white," with the course of the little stream through the
midst indicated by a perfect golden river of shining kingcups
interspersed with ferns. Beyond lay tracts of brown heath and
brilliant gorse and broom, which stretched for miles and miles along