We will now describe a few examples of village architecture in the
immediate neighbourhood of London, with illustrations from Pinner and
Acton. The first, which is in “Post-and-pan” construction, is a simple
but pleasing example of Gothic work, dating from the reign of Henry
VIII., sketched at Pinner. The second is a porch to a cottage in the
same pretty village; it is one of the most picturesque examples we know
of, and the lovely rose bush which shades it adds much to its beauty.
When we first saw it great clusters of these exquisite flowers clung
around the ancient timbers and spread themselves over the ruddy tiles
of the roof. It would be difficult to conceive a more charming bower,
but, although some mending has been recently carried out, it will
probably not last through many more winters; some cruel wind may wreck
it, or some tempest ruin it, but when this catastrophe takes place
it will have served its purpose for nearly four centuries, and can a
wooden porch be expected to do more? As we heard an archæologist say,
“it will have earned a right to tumble down.” Alas, we fear that most
of the old village architecture in England has earned this right, and
will, before very long, take advantage of it.
In addition to this the wholesale “improving” away of picturesque
village architecture in the vicinity of the metropolis will leave
little for those who come after us to study or admire.
A few years back how beautiful a place was Willesden, with its
mediæval cottages, ancient wooden parsonage, inns and country houses
surrounded by gardens, farm-yards, barns, wooden granaries, etc. All
but one or two have lately disappeared, and they are threatened.
What a pretty country village Acton was, but now how changed! The old
forge still remains to speak to us of village life of the past; it is
sweet and charming, its walls mantled with creepers and overshadowed
with great elms and poplars. A quaint little garden with brick paths
separates it from the road. The building itself is of brick partly
framed in timber, though not of “Post-and-pan” construction, as the
wood is simply introduced by way of bond, a kind of construction which
came in towards the end of the seventeenth century. The chimneys are
older than the house, and look quite Elizabethan. It is altogether a
lovely village bit and strangely out of gear with the smart suburban
villas growing up all around it.
[Illustration: COTTAGE PORCH, PINNER.]
It is strange that in times within the memory of the writer the
villages closely surrounding London were so countrified. Hampstead,
Highgate, Acton, Fulham, Barnes, Kew, Richmond, Bow, Stratford, Bromley
were quite separated from the metropolis and surrounded by pleasant
fields, approached by lanes shaded by elms and tall hawthorn hedges,
full of good old-fashioned houses shut in with lofty red brick walls,
over which fruit trees might be seen, laden in autumn, with ruddy
apples, golden pears or purple plums, offering a temptation to the
passer-by. Fields of cabbages or fragrant beans, (can anything surpass
the scent of a bean-field in full bloom with the sun upon it?) market
gardens, orchards, and acres of more delicate vegetables, cucumbers,
etc., grown under glass; great waggons laden with the produce of the
land jolting and jingling along the road or stopping for refreshment
for man and beast in front of some well-shaded wayside inn. A
four-wheeled cab might be seen occasionally, when folks would look at
one another, and say, “What can be the matter? Here's a cab going to
the Smiths'. Can it be a lawyer going to draw up the old man's will, or
has his son, after so many years, come back again from India?” See the
neighbourhoods now with their huge warehouses, manufactories or smart
suburban streets and rows of shops, omnibuses, motor cars, etc. How few
years, comparatively speaking, it has taken to effect these changes,
and one wonders whether any country at all will be left in the days of
our grandchildren.
[Illustration: VILLAGE FORGE AT ACTON.]
(_To be continued._)
VARIETIES.
A FABLE FOR CRITICS.
A lamb strayed for the first time into the woods, and excited much
discussion among the other animals. In a mixed company, one day, when
he became the subject of a friendly gossip, the goat praised him.
“Pooh!” said the lion, “this is too absurd. The beast is a pretty beast
enough, but did you hear him roar? I heard him roar, and, by the manes
of my fathers, when he roars he does nothing but cry ba--a--a!” And the
lion bleated his best in mockery, but bleated far from well.
“Nay,” said the deer, “I do not think so badly of his voice. I liked
him well enough until I saw him leap. He kicks with the hind legs in
running, and with all his skipping gets over very little ground.”
“It is a bad beast altogether,” said the tiger. “He cannot roar,
he cannot run, he can do nothing--and what wonder? I killed a man
yesterday, and, in politeness to the new-comer, offered him a bit, upon
which he had the impudence to look disgusted and say, ‘No, sir, I eat
nothing but grass.’”
So the beasts criticised the lamb, each in his own way; and yet it was
a very good lamb nevertheless.
TAKING DOWN THE CLOTHES-LINE.
“We had at one time in our service,” says a modern housekeeper, “a very
simple young woman, who came to us through one of the registry offices
in our town.
“She showed the quality of her intelligence on the very day she came.
She was told to go out into the yard and take down the clothes-line,
which was stretched upon half-a-dozen posts set up for that purpose.
“Bridget was at the task so long that we began to wonder what on earth
had become of her. We went out to see what she was doing, and found her
working away vigorously with a spade. She had dug up three of the posts
and had almost completed the work upon a fourth. She did not stay with
us long.”
TRUTH IS ALWAYS EASIEST.--It is hard to personate and act a part
long; for, where truth is not at the bottom, nature will always be
endeavouring to return and will peep out and betray herself one time or
other.
THE GIFTS OF FORTUNE.--“I generally divide my favours,” says Fortune,
“by giving a gift to one and the power to appreciate it to another.”
NATURAL BAROMETERS.
From the earliest times observations have been made on the signs
exhibited by members of the animal world indicative of changes in the
weather.
Rain and storms have been predicted by asses frequently shaking and
agitating their ears; by dogs rolling on the ground and scratching up
the earth with their forefeet; by oxen lying on their right side; by
animals crowding together; by moles throwing up more earth than usual;
by bats sending forth their cries and flying into houses; by sea-fowl
and other aquatic birds retiring to the shore; by ducks and geese
flying backwards and forwards and frequently plunging into the water;
by swallows flying low, etc.
Fine weather, on the other hand, has been foretold by the croaking of
crows in the morning; by bats remaining longer than usual abroad and
flying about in considerable numbers; by the screech of the owl; and by
cranes flying very high in silence and ranged in order.
COURAGE.--There is nothing like courage even in ordinary things.
Let us be willing to try at anything we wish to accomplish. It often
happens that those who try at it do it.
ABOUT PEGGY SAVILLE.
BY JESSIE MANSERGH (Mrs. G. de Horne Vaizey), Author of “Sisters
Three,” etc.