all, the flavour was much superior to that of sour apples, so I ate voraciously.  How long I continued eating I scarcely know.  One thing is certain, that I never left the field as I entered it, being carried home in the arms of the dragoon in strong convulsions, in which I continued for several hours.  About midnight I awoke, as if from a troubled sleep, and beheld my parents bending over my couch, whilst the regimental surgeon, with a candle in his hand, stood nigh, the light feebly reflected on the whitewashed walls of the barrack-room.

Another circumstance connected with my infancy, and I have done.  I need offer no apology for relating it, as it subsequently exercised considerable influence over my pursuits.  We were, if I remember right, in the vicinity of a place called Hythe, in Kent.  One sweet evening, in the latter part of summer, our mother took her two little boys by the hand, for a wander about the fields.  In the course of our stroll we came to the village church; an old, gray-headed sexton stood in the porch, who, perceiving that we were strangers, invited us to enter.  We were presently in the interior, wandering about the aisles, looking on the walls, and inspecting the monuments of the notable dead.  I can scarcely state what we saw; how should I?  I was a child not yet four years old, and yet I think I remember the evening sun streaming in through a stained window upon the dingy mahogany pulpit, and flinging a rich lustre upon the faded tints of an ancient banner.  And now once more we were outside the building, where, against the wall, stood a low-eaved pent-house, into which we looked.  It was half filled with substances of some kind, which at first looked like large gray stones.  The greater part were lying in layers; some, however, were seen in confused and mouldering heaps, and two or three, which had perhaps rolled down from the rest, lay separately on the floor.  ‘Skulls, madam,’ said the sexton; ’skulls of the old Danes!  Long ago they came pirating into these parts; and then there chanced a mighty shipwreck, for God was angry with them, and He sunk them; and their skulls, as they came ashore, were placed here as a memorial.  There were many more when I was young, but now they are fast disappearing.  Some of them must have belonged to strange fellows, madam.  Only see that one; why, the two young gentry can scarcely lift it!’ And, indeed, my brother and myself had entered the Golgotha, and commenced handling these grim relics of mortality.  One enormous skull, lying in a corner, had fixed our attention, and we had drawn it forth.  Spirit of eld, what a skull was yon!

{picture:’Skulls, madam,’ said the sexton; ‘skulls of the old Danes.’:  page18.jpg}