in general, is known simply by 
the appellation of 'The Squire;' a title which has been accorded to the 
head of the family since time immemorial. I think it best to give you 
these hints about my worthy old father, to prepare you for any little 
eccentricities that might otherwise appear absurd." 
* Peacham's "Complete Gentleman," 1622. 
We had passed for some time along the wall of a park, and at length the 
chaise stopped at the gate. It was in a heavy, magnificent old style, of 
iron bars, fancifully wrought at top into flourishes and flowers. The 
huge square columns that supported the gate were surmounted by the 
family crest. Close adjoining was the porter's lodge, sheltered under 
dark fir-trees, and almost buried in shrubbery. 
The post-boy rang a large porter's bell, which resounded through the 
still, frosty air, and was answered by the distant barking of dogs, with 
which the mansion-house seemed garrisoned. An old woman 
immediately appeared at the gate. As the moonlight fell strongly upon 
her, I had full view of a little primitive dame, dressed very much in the 
antique taste, with a neat kerchief and stomacher, and her silver hair 
peeping from under a cap of snowy whiteness. She came curtseying 
forth, with many expressions of simple joy at seeing her young master. 
Her husband, it seems, was up at the house keeping Christmas eve in 
the servants' hall; they could not do without him, as he was the best 
hand at a song and story in the household. 
My friend proposed that we should alight and walk through the park to 
the hall, which was at no great distance, while the chaise should follow
on. Our road wound through a noble avenue of trees, among the naked 
branches of which the moon glittered as she rolled through the deep 
vault of a cloudless sky. The lawn beyond was sheeted with a slight 
covering of snow, which here and there sparkled as the moonbeams 
caught a frosty crystal; and at a distance might be seen a thin, 
transparent vapour, stealing up from the low grounds, and threatening 
gradually to shroud the landscape. 
My companion looked round him with transport:--"How often," said he, 
"have I scampered up this avenue, on returning home on school 
vacations! How often have I played under these trees when a boy! I feel 
a degree of filial reverence for them, as we look up to those who have 
cherished us in childhood. My father was always scrupulous in 
exacting our holidays, and having us around him on family festivals. 
He used to direct and superintend our games with the strictness that 
some parents do the studies of their children. He was very particular 
that we should play the old English games according to their original 
form and consulted old books for precedent and authority for every 
'merrie disport;' yet I assure you there never was pedantry so delightful. 
It was the policy of the good old gentleman to make his children feel 
that home was the happiest place in the world; and I value this 
delicious home- feeling as one of the choicest gifts a parent can 
bestow." 
We were interrupted by the clangour of a troop of dogs of all sorts and 
sizes, "mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, and curs of low degree," 
that, disturbed by the ringing of the porter's bell, and the rattling of the 
chaise, came bounding, open-mouthed, across the lawn. 
"The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart--see, they bark at 
me!" 
cried Bracebridge, laughing. At the sound of his voice the bark was 
changed into a yelp of delight, and in a moment he was surrounded and 
almost overpowered by the caresses of the faithful animals. 
We had now come in full view of the old family mansion, partly 
thrown in deep shadow, and partly lit up by the cold moonshine. It was
an irregular building of some magnitude, and seemed to be of the 
architecture of different periods. One wing was, evidently very ancient, 
with heavy stone-shafted bow windows jutting out and overrun with 
ivy, from among the foliage of which the small diamond-shaped panes 
of glass glittered with the moonbeams. The rest of the house was in the 
French taste of Charles the Second's time, having been repaired and 
altered, as my friend told me, by one of his ancestors, who returned 
with that monarch at the Restoration. The grounds about the house 
were laid out in the old formal manner of artificial flower-beds, clipped 
shrubberies, raised terraces, and heavy stone balustrades, ornamented 
with urns, a leaden statue or two, and a jet of water. The old gentleman, 
I was told, was extremely careful to preserve this obsolete finery in all 
its original state. He admired this fashion in gardening; it had an    
    
		
	
	
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