cigar—one of the stranger's cigars, by the way, which he pressed upon us as being "so much better than what you buy at hotels"—we actually became such friends that he gave us his card, and, learning that we were on a driving tour, actually added a most pressing invitation for us to come and stay with him at his place in the country, "horses and all." I mention this incident exactly as it occurred. No moral follows, though I could get one in nicely; but I refrain.
Not only is the view of Lincoln's cathedral-crowned city very fine from all around, a proper distance being granted, but the prospects from many points within the elevated portion of the city are also exceedingly lovely, and equally rewarding in their way, commanding, as they do, vast stretches of greenful landscape, varied by spreading woods, and enlivened by the silvery gleam of winding river, not to forget the picturesque trail of white steam from the speeding trains that give a wonderful feeling of life and movement to the view,—a view bounded to the west and south by the faint blue, long, undulating lines of the distant Wolds.
Open to all "the four winds," or more, of heaven, Lincoln "above hill" can never be "stuffy," as many medieval cities are. When we were there the weather was warm and oppressively close in the city "below hill," and a gentleman driving in from the country declared that it was "the hottest day of the year," still in the streets around the cathedral we found a refreshing, if balmy, breeze. Some ancient towns have the pleasing quality of picturesqueness,
