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tion on the freshness of the surrounding verdure. About four miles from Hartford Bridge, the hamlets of Murrel Green and Hook are separated by a little transparent brook, which empties itself into the Loddon near Arborfield: and under which a drain is condućted to draw off the waters from some neighbouring lands. The state, cultivation, and the fertility of the pastures arrested our attention. But what principally delighted us was the apparent comfort and decency of the cottages, whose little gaidens were stocked with useful vegetables, and whose doors and windows were decorated with rose and woodbine. The only wretched habitations we met with, were two tenements made out of one farm-house (the farm belonging to which, in the progress of monopoly, had been united to another in the neighbourhood), and four others into which a deserted inn (which had been a farm also) was in another place divided. These habitations were miserable indeed. Shattered windows, crazy walls, floorless apartments, and neglected roofs, proclaimed the comfortless condition of the inhabitants. From a decent motherly woman, whom we found with a family of young children around her, in one part of the former of these buildings, we learned that rains and snows frequently beat in upon them, and they were obliged to move their beds from corner to corner of the room, in the vain hope of finding, in some part, protećtion from the inclemencies of the weather. These circumstances are by no means peculiar to the village of Hook. Wherever we met with farm-houses thus divided, we uniformly found them the most misèrable habitations in the neighbourhood. How should it be otherwise 2 The labourers, who inhabit them, consider their tenure as too precarious, and the premises too large for them to think about repairs; and a crazy-old mansion, in which his hedgers and ditchers only are to reside, is an object beneath thcoattention of an overgrown capitalist. . A little further on is a plantation of oaks, belonging to Lord Dorchester, planted originally at the distances where they are intended to grow, and protećted each by a high circular bank of turf, which gives them the appearance of Christmas brambles stuck in the centre of so many twelfth-cakes. I am not woodman enough to decide on the advantages of this mode of plantation; but to the eye, the effect is extremely ungracious. Soon after turning our backs on this unsightly

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