see for myself and to copy, had been covered over and hidden by a brand new organ! Matting you may move, even a harmonium, and I always do on principle, as I once made an interesting discovery by so doing; but an organ is a very different matter: not that I should have any scruples under the circumstances in moving an organ, if I could!
A JOKING SIGN From the church we strolled down the river-side, or as near to it as we could, in search of sketchable bits—and shipping, for though some ten miles inland (judging by our map), Spalding is a seaport, small, but flourishing in its way; brigs and sloops, inconsiderable in size according to modern commercial ideas, find their way thither, and these are more profitable to the artist, if not to their owners, than huge steamers and big iron vessels. Small sea-craft are always picturesque, which is more than can be said of their larger brethren. On our way we passed a public-house, its projecting sign had two men's heads painted thereon, with the title above, "The Loggerheads," and below the legend, "We be Loggerheads three," a joke at the expense of the reader. It would be interesting to learn the origin of this curious and uncommon sign. I have consulted all the likely books in my library, but, though I find allusions to it, I can discover no explanation thereof.
It was late in the afternoon before we made a start from Spalding; exploring, sketching, and photographing, to say nothing of epitaph-hunting or chatting with local folk, take up time, so our morning slipped quietly away before we knew it,
