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which he lived and worked, but he knew his wish would never come true. Then the king asked him if he would like to see his king. This delighted the man and he expressed a great desire to see him. He was told to come to the castle at a certain date, night and hour, and he thought he could point out the king to him. The night arrived, and the man was at the appointed place on time. The king, disguised as when the man had seen him before, ushered him in and showed him over the entire castle. The king then said, "We will now go into the assembly-room, and you will see the king.” The man said, “But how will I know him?" The king replied, “He will be the only man there with his hat on." They entered the room, the man, of course, not knowing he must remove his hat. He looked carefully around and turning to the king said, “I do not see him, and me and you are the only ones with our hats on, so it must be one of us." The king replied, "You are right; I am the king.” The poor man was overcome, but the king kindly talked to him, gave him the farm, which still belongs to the man's descendants, and also made him a retainer in the castle.

We had a very delightful afternoon together, and returned to our hotels.

MELROSE Friday, June 24, we left Edinboro by train for Melrose, the Chipmans deciding to go with us. Arriving at Melrose we took brakes for Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott's home. This is beautiful with its fine wood carvings, handsome old paintings of nobility beside friends and family, and the grounds are vast and lovely. From here we coached to Dryburg Abbey, a very picturesque, ivy-grown ruin, the walls remaining only in places. The soft green grass and moss cover its floors, as it does the lawns outside. Here we saw Scott's tomb and those of the family. We coached from here to Melrose Abbey. It was late, as we had been so detained by the numerous coaching parties, so that our time was too short for more than a glimpse of it, and which we greatly regretted. This is in a much better state of preservation, and is magnificent in its stately ruin and decay. We had lunched at the George and Abbotsford Inn before going out to Abbotsford, and I managed to run over to a postcard shop and secure quite a number of the clan cards, of which I am striving to make a good collection, as I am quite daffy about the plaids, they are so beautiful in coloring Had I not taken advantage of the few moments while waiting for our coach to drive up, I should have missed getting any cards here, as we were only allowed a few minutes on our return to go into the abbey. The Chipmans had thought of remaining at Melrose over night, but it was such a small village that they decided to go on to Durham with us. We had hardly started before it commenced to pour down rain. We changed cars at Rickerton and had tea baskets put on for us. We were all tired, and as we were again obliged to change cars at New Castle, decided to remain there over night. This we did, stopping at Central Station Hotel. We enjoyed a refreshing night's rest.


Saturday, June 25, we left for Durham, arriving early. The assizes court being in session, all carriages were engaged, so we took a station cab for sightseeing. The cathedral is on a high bluff in the city, and the castle and grounds adjoin it. We went through the castle first, but were obliged to wait for a while, until the judge came out. As he came, he was announced with the flourish of trumpets by the outriders in front of his coach. The horses were highly decorated, and, as he sat in state, he looked a very handsome man. We were now at liberty to go through the castle, so walked up to it and were shown all through. It had a gloomy appearance, as the furnishings were all in somber hues. We saw some very old pictures. We then went over to the cathedral, which is considered the finest Norman building in England. It has been rebuilt several times, first by the Saxons, and then by the Normans after the conquest. It is well preserved. We went down into the crypt also. There is a sanctuary knocker connected with the church, extending protecting arms around offenders that were numerous and varied. This protection extended within a radius of a mile, which was marked with crosses at intervals. This knocker was a curious, grotesque bronze head. The fugitive had only to take the ring in his hand and knock to be admitted any hour of the day or night by porters who dwelt in rooms just above the door. As soon as a fugitive was admitted a bell was rung to announce to the inhabitants that some one had been taken into the sanctuary. He was clothed in a black gown, a yellow cross upon the left shoulder (St. Cuthbert's cross), and taken to a room near the south door of the Galilee porch, to remain thirty-seven days. The windows of the porter's chambers are now locked, but are visible above the high doorway. The last occasion when the rite of sanctuary was claimed was in 1521. Legend says, on the north side of the cathedral is where the monks, having fled from Chester -Lee—street, and rested with the body of St. Cuthbert at Ripon, were anxious to return to Durham courts. They came to a place called Ward Lane. When they were about to remove the bier, they found it fast to the ground. After praying three days as to what they should do, were instructed through a vision to carry the body to Dunholm (Dunham). They were in ignorance of where Dunholm was. They met two women, and one in a loud voice called to the other, asking if she had seen her cow, was answered, she was in Dunholm. The monks, following, found the cow grazing on the present site of the cathedral. Here they ended their journey, and after a period of time had elapsed, commenced to build the cathedral, as a memorial to their patron saint, St. Cuthbert.




We drove from here to the station in time for our train to York, having luncheon baskets put on board. We arrived about I

Taking carriages, we drove direct to the cathedral, passing through gateways in the old Roman wall, part of which is still standing. The cathedral is well preserved and is still in use.

Some of the old stained glass still remains in its windows. It has some of the handsomest stained glass in England. We drove around York, through the old town, and finally to the station, where we took our train for Lincoln. We had tea baskets put on board. Arriving in Lincoln, we stopped at the White Hart Hotel, a fine old hostelry, furnished in beautiful old mahogany.


Sunday, June 26. We spent a quiet day, Mrs. Chipman and I resting and writing in our rooms, the girls and Gusty going to service in the cathedral. After lunch, in the late afternoon, we called a carriage and drove through the small town, seeing its numerous churches from the outside. I think Gusty would like to have had a peep inside. We drove over the old bridge, on which was built an old house, which is called

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