true artistic sense of fitness, preserved all the original ornamentation of the house most religiously intact.

The walls of the fine old staircase were covered with oil-paintings, one and all relating to sport; all the wild life of the flats was represented; besides horses, there were long-dogs, as they were called in the marshes, pointers, and curly-coated old English setters. These too were painted by Philip Magnier.

One thing always puzzled and distressed Denzil as a boy. He felt, and indeed he divined rightly, that their relative never cared to dwell on the fact that his father had painted so many pictures; and he knew that both he and his father tried to put a damper on his own longings and aspirations in the same direction. Still the old gentleman, courteous and kindly to all as his nature compelled him to be, would smile gravely at Denzil's undisguised admiration of his father's work; only he would bid him learn his trade well, and say that if a man meant to get on and to stand well with the world, he must stick to his business and not let his thoughts wander far afield.

Then Denzil would feel a sudden chill, and sadness would fill his heart, until his cousin Larry roused

him by getting him out of doors to a merry game in the fine old-world garden that lay behind the house, or farther away still to the shore below.

The garden had high walls round three sides of it. Through a door at the farther end you passed into a spacious orchard, which was well stocked with fruit-trees. The garden had also plenty of stonefruit growing up the sides of the old walls. There were apples, pears, cherries, and plums of many sorts in the greatest profusion in their seasons. garden and orchard ran down the slope, and a blackthorn hedge was all that separated them from the saltings and the tide.

The

Directly opposite to the Portreeve's property a coastguard-ship, or, as the fishing folk called it, the Preventive ship, was anchored. There used to be three of these vessels within the short distance of five miles. Yet from the creek, in spite of these, the wives and daughters of the more prosperous inhabitants received from time to time mysterious packages, which were always opened in the privacy of their own chambers; and they appeared on special occasions in fine satin, silk, or brocade gowns which had never been bought in Marshton or the larger

C

neighbouring town of Standbeck. A bottle of eaude-Cologne, too, or a stout four-cornered green bottle, was found, oddly enough, from time to time inside a great codfish; and the poorest fisher-lass would have blushed for shame if, when she was married, she had not possessed a splendid bed-quilt of her own, made in patchwork of grand and rich materials arranged in most wonderful patterns.

Whenever the boats came in from a long linefishing cruise, there was sure to be a meeting of the lasses held, from which all the men-folk were rigorously excluded-though some of the younger might have been seen hovering round the neighbourhood until their sweethearts joined them.

Το go back to Denzil in his kinsman's house. One great pleasure he had there was free access to a great scrap-book, such as those of our parents who were artistic or literary in their tastes always found time to fill and to enjoy. Nowadays the innumerable illustrated papers and magazines take the place of these cherished old volumes, which were turned over and over again during the long winter evenings. We read many more books than were ever obtainable in those days; but perhaps we fail to make what is

good and beautiful and true our own as did many of our forefathers ? Life is over-crowded; there is "no room in the inn" for many a heavenly visitant.

Denzil found in that collection all that the master had come across in the way of artistic odds and ends. There were engravings from the pictures of Stubbs, Gilpin, and other men of their time; seapieces of Vernet's, the French marine painter; odd birds from Bewick's works- some of the best of them, for the master's eye was critical and keen, and they are not all good-with here and there some from Audubon and Wilson; not many of these latter, however. And this treasury of scraps the master would often turn over himself while the boy stood by; and he had pleasure in noting the silent delight and appreciation that shone in Denzil's face.

CHAPTER V.

OLD NANCE'S IRON POT.

On his way home Den hailed his boon companions again, just to make sure of being one at the crabboiling process next day.

"Come as soon as ever ye can, Reed-bird," said Scoot, "afore they wants us down at the boat. They're all big 'uns now, fur the big 'uns hev cracked up t'others they'll be prime eatin', an' no mistake."

"I've got a fine prize fur ye," cried Winder; "what do ye say to that now?" and he produced a number of strange-looking small fish, strung together on a tarred string. "Father gev it me fur ye."

The boy laughed as he held out his hand for the fish; such windfalls as these added greatly to the joy of his young life. A fish, or an occasional bird given him by a fowling friend, would first be copied on the