to do the same to-morrow morning; and I hope my reader may not think
that I have already lingered too long at the Hall. I have been tempted
to do so, however, because I thought I had lit upon one of the retired
places where there are yet some traces to be met with of old English
character. A little while hence, and all these will probably have passed
away. Ready-Money Jack will sleep with his fathers: the good squire, and
all his peculiarities, will be buried in the neighbouring church. The
old Hall will be modernised into a fashionable country-seat, or,
peradventure, a manufactory. The park will be cut up into petty farms
and kitchen-gardens. A daily coach will run through the village; it will
become, like all other commonplace villages, thronged with coachmen,
post-boys, tipplers, and politicians; and Christmas, May-day, and all
the other hearty merry-makings of the "good old times" will be
forgotten.
[Illustration: Master Simon's Finale]