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 he has to quaff, retaining the cup which is of considerable value. "The house is only two miles and a half from here; you must go there, and be sure and see the gold coronation cups. I'll give you a letter of introduction," exclaimed our good friend, and thereupon he called for pen and ink and paper, and wrote it out at once. Having written and handed us this, he further remarked: "You'll drive into the park through an arched gateway with a lion on the top; the lion has his foot raised when the family are at home, and down when they are away. But now it's getting late, and I really must be off." So our good-natured and entertaining companion, with a hearty hand-shake, departed. Verily we did not fail for friends on the road!

Early next morning we set out to drive to Scrivelsby Court; we could not afford to wait till the afternoon to make our unexpected call—the day was too temptingly fine for that; and moreover we had planned to be in Lincoln that evening, where we expected to find letters from home—Lincoln being one of our "ports of call" for correspondence and parcels. It was a very pleasant and pretty drive from Horncastle to Scrivelsby, the latter half of the way being wholly along a leafy and deep-hedged lane green in shade, and having here and there a thatched cottage to add to its picturesqueness—a bird-beloved lane of the true Devonian type.

Presently we arrived at the stone-arched gateway that gives admission to Scrivelsby Park; here above the Gothic arch we noticed the carved aggressive-looking lion of which we had been told, with a crown