In t cities tle of t into our minority. In ttle toies; people are not numerous enoug see ts nee en to eloquent speaking, read books and e ttle all titudes pass on unc for all our talk: good seasons and bad folloudes are no more concerned y gate of t map-makers e across unexplored regions, “urners of t are te but one line t is certain, “s.”

    My gs in ter. ory  village, s crooked lanes, its old abbey cs green background of small fir-trees, and its quay,  is tle, er nigain rare mottering along tide, just at t er , and go ing for g tales or tales of tience.

    to approac nigimid man requires great strategy.  A man  on me. If I go round by ter, and up by teps, t round te is appearing at e, and tal Lane.”

    I never   feel sure it  tal Lane. In cimes a s up to receive patients.   ever since t stood  in gs and demons and faeries. t  strengteetotaller.

    er-in-larengten wonder w he would do if he drank.

    One nigal Lane,   first to be a tame rabbit; after a little  it . ure sloo s gre  of urned and ran.

    By tal Lane goes travel from to to t tands a cottage. One nig ing all man came in and sat beside er ting t up and  out, saying, “Never leave t to you.” Sold h us,” said he.

    Probably te at e. estant clergyman. “ o  is only doing a penance upon t far from e, ime a muc. Its  ern end of te its ory at lengtypical village tragedy. In a cottage at ter, Jim Montgomery, and tle dandy, and came of a ing one day. er , and came and took doters—Montgomery