into the clime of birds and bees, and we return with their music in our hearts—return admiring the ferns beautifully luxuriant, and gathering some of them and the red campion, which, spreading everywhere, beautifies the whole extent of the woods. On our way up the steep which leads back to the castle, we came upon the giant, or “Belted Will,” as it is more popularly called, rehearsing as we pass it—
“When mailed mosstroopers rode the hill,
When helmed warders paced the keep,
And bugles blew for Belted Will.”
There are many other beauties we have seen and not been able to note at Corby, for our aftenoon was soon gone. We are, however, bound to pay our tribute of admiration and thanks to the noble owner of all this beauty, whose courtesy and kindness are in fine keeping with this his ancient inheritance. With the kindly greetings of himself and his, then unbroken, family, we passed by the castle, and, by his own direction, through the gardens, as the nearest way to the station. We were among the last of our party, and in the dim silence of our own innumerable thoughts, felt devoutly thankful for our afternoon in Corby Walks, and thankful also that this stately home of England, which stands so beautifully on its honoured soil, has for its head a gentleman so truly generous, with an inheritance so largely likely to promote both moral and spiritual refinement.
