UNDER THE APPLE-TREES
By CLEMENT SCOTT

Daily Telegraph August 21st 1894.

“Oh, but you will be so dreadfully dull!” came in a moaning chorus from affectionate friends when I gravely announced my determination of settling down for a month or more at Walnut-tree Farm, in the delightful garden-land of apples, and hops, and hayfields, and cathedrals, and battle scenes, and rose-covered cottages, a ten good miles from anywhere. ......

How in the wide world can a man be dull who is suddenly possessed of the cosiest house in the world, in the heart of a country far more beautiful than I have ever seen before in England; with a smart little mare and a comfortable old cob in the stables, each ready to do its twenty miles a day without turning a hair. ......

What a rich and luxurious country it is, where the monks of old built their peaceful homes under the hills in this beautiful garden of old England! Salmon from the Wye and the Severn; apples in abundance weighing down the roadside trees of all Worcestershire and Herefordshire; acres and acres of pale-green hops, in wild and luxuriant festoons of blossom; all the air as we drive along from farm to city perfumed with new-mown hay, bean fields, garden roses, and sweet-smelling clover. Then, after a brisk trot through the very heart of the country, we alight at some old-world inn in the Cathedral city; an inn of the old coaching days, with an arched entrance where hang well-cured hams and gammons of bacon. .......

Nor are these suddenly improvised drives without their amusing adventures that dissipate all idea of dulness in a country life. I had observed a placard or so in the adjacent villages to the effect that there was to be a local race-meeting at Bosbury. The village children as I drive past them, stare with delight at the pictures of daring steeplechasers taking hurdles and hedges in a fashion worthy of the Agricultural Hall. I doubt if it will be a bit like that at Bosbury; but, at any rate, I will investigate the matter for myself. The first thing to ascertain is, Where is Bosbury? I have not the very faintest idea, but cross questions and an ordnance map shall be my guide. It is past Eastnor Castle and its lovely park, through old Ledbury with its quaint black and white market-hall, which looks as if a house had been elevated on four bedposts, and then a few miles on, among the hops and the apples, and “Anyone will guide you to Bosbury.”

I have lost the original text that I had started typing up. Can anyone help? BSS 2017

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