a mother," runs the German proverb, “are four devils for the father;" but, it is added, "Would you know your daughter, see her in company,' for then she will cultivate every charm to make herself as attractive as possible. At home the picture is quite the reverse, for, runs the popular German adage, "A house full of daughters is like a cellar full of sour beer;" and there is our own proverb, "Marriageable, foolish wenches are troublesome troops to keep."

A Cheshire maxim, too, speaks in the same strain :

"I'll tent thee, quoth Wood,

If I can't rule my daughter, I'll rule my good."

This idea, it may be added, is conveyed in various ways, which, it must be acknowledged, are far from being favourable to the children, for, as a Northamptonshire couplet says:

"As tall as your knee they are pretty to see;
As tall as your head they wish you were dead."

Hence daughters are certain cares, but uncertain comforts; and, according to an Oriental proverbial maxim

"A daughter after two sons brings prosperity,
And a son after two daughters beggary."

And we may compare the Lincolnshire couplet

"Lasses is cumbersome,

Lads is lumbersome."

Folk-maxims of this kind might be easily multiplied, a popular Welsh adage reminding us that "the worst store is a maid unbestowed," but when it is remembered in the words of our old proverb that "Every Jack must have his Jill," there is hope for every daughter of Eve, for she may be the object of a passion similar to that described by Charles Dance :

"By the margins of fair Zurich's waters

Dwelt a youth, whose fond heart, night and day,
For the fairest of fair Zurich's daughters,
In a dream of love melted way."

A

Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance."

SSOCIATED with

many

WORDSWORTH.

of our historic houses and romantic spots, "My Lady's Walk" perpetuates the memory, not infrequently, of traditions of a tragic and legendary kind, some of which belong to incidents bound up with the seamy side of family romance.

Thus at Huddington, Worcestershire, there is an avenue of trees called "Lady Winter's Walk," where, it is said, the lady of Thomas Winterwho was forced to conceal himself on account of his share in the Gunpowder Plot-was in the habit of awaiting her husband's furtive visits; and here, it is affirmed, her ladyship is still occasionally seen pacing up and down her old accustomed haunt beneath the sombre shade of those aged

trees.

Near Guy's Cave, Warwick, there is "Fair Phillis's Walk," where, according to the local tradition, she was in the habit of daily sauntering, lamenting the absence of her husband Guy, whom she supposed to be dead, or a prisoner in the Holy Land, while, all the time, he was in close proximity to her, living in a cave, disguised as a palmer, which, runs the story, was constructed by himself, for

"There, with my hands, I hewed a house,

Out of a craggy rock of stone,

And lived like a palmer poor,

Within that cave myself alone."

It appears that he was obliged to betake himself to this life of penance from remorse at having wrought so much mischief for the sake of the fair Phillis, who, after the fashion of the noble ladies of her time, required deeds of arms from her lover before she would acknowledge his attentions. But he made himself known to her when dying, and ever since this romantic episode the spot in question has been known as "Fair Phillis's Walk."

A deep ravine within the summit of Walla Crag, Keswick, "in whose ponderous jaws," tradition says, "the once errant spirit of Jamie Lowther-the first Earl of Lonsdale was securely immured, is still known as the "Lady's Rake,' being the path by which, according to an improbable story, the Countess of Derwentwater effected her escape on receiving the news of her husband's capture, carrying with her a quantity of

jewels and other valuables. She fled, it is said, along this memorable path "from the rage of the peasantry, who considered her to be the cause of the earl's misfortune, having instigated him to take part in the rebellion against his better judgment."

Similarly, the Ermine Street, running from Godmanchester towards Stamford and Lincoln, was in years past locally designated "Lady Coneyborough's Way," from an old tradition, long remembered in the neighbourhood, that, when St. Kneyburgh was once pursued by a ruffianly assailant, "the road unrolled itself before her as she fled," and thus enabled her to effect her escape in safety.

About two miles from Bolton Castle, on the ridge of Leyburn Shawl-a green terrace about a mile long-there is a narrow way, or pass, which is commonly known as the "Queen's Gap." At this spot, the story goes, Mary Queen of Scots was caught by Lord Scrope and his guards, when attempting to make her escape from Bolton Castle. The pass since that day-as the place of her recapture has invariably, it is said, been known as the "Queen's Gap"; but such an attempt was probably never made, although, as it has been added, "the Shawl must have been visited by the Queen, who, whilst at Bolton, was allowed to ride forth hunting and hawking," under due supervision.

Historic romance affords numerous examples of walks rendered famous by the fair sex under a variety of peculiar circumstances. According to