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 captain of the wild North Sea, all making merry over their glasses and jokes. The modern traveller in the modern hotel is alas! less sociable, and takes himself over seriously, and seldom even smiles. But happily there seems to be something about the old English inn that thaws the formality and taciturnity out of strangers. I think this must be due to the sense of homeliness and comfort that pervades it, with the delightful absence of all pretence and show.

From our inn we looked across the wide market square right on to the splendid and spacious church with its tall and graceful tower, a veritable triumph of the builder's craft. It chanced to be market-day, and so the large square was filled with stalls, and was chiefly in the possession of picturesquely-clad country folk displaying their goods,—fruits, flowers, vegetables, eggs, poultry, and the like, whilst the townsfolk gathered round to make their purchases, the transactions being carried on with much mutual bargaining and leisurely chattering; and the hum of many blended voices came upwafted to us, not as a disturbing noise, but with a slumberous sound as restful as the summer droning of innumerable bees. The ear may be trained to listen with pleasure, as well as the eye to discern with delight, and it is the peace-suggesting country sounds, the clean, fresh air laden with sweet odours from flower, field, and tree, as well as the vision, that cause a rural ramble to be so rewarding and so enjoyable. There must surely be something in the moist air of the Fenland that makes musical melody of noises; for we noticed