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It was such a fine hot Midsummer day at Hollowdell station, that the porter had grown tired of teasing the truck-driver's dog, and fallen fast asleep an example which the dog had tried to follow, but could not, because there was only one shady spot within the station-gates, and that had been taken possession of by the porter; so the poor dog had tried first one place, and then another, but they were all so hot and stifling, and the flies kept buzzing about him so teasingly, that he grew quite cross, and barked and snapped so at the tiresome insects, that at last he woke Jem Barnes, the porter, who got up, stretched himself, yawned very rudely and loudly, and then, looking in at the station-clock, he saw that the 2:30 train from London was nearly due, so he made up his mind not to go to sleep again until it had passed.

But just at this time there were other people travelling towards Hollowdell station, and that too by the long dusty chalky road that came through the woods and over the wooden bridge right up to the railway crossing; and these people were no others than Fred Morris's country cousins, and the old man-servant half groom, half gardener who was driving the pony chaise with Harry Inglis by his side, while Fred's other cousin Philip was cantering along upon his donkey close behind such a donkey! with thin legs, and a thin tail that he kept closely tucked in between the hind pair, as if he was afraid the crupper would pull it off.

But, no; the old fellows would not be caught, they left that to the younger branches of their family, who fell in tolerable numbers into the basket brought from Hollowdell.

But the greatest beauty of the house at Hollowdell, or, as it was called in the neighbourhood, "The Grange," was the ivy, which did not creep there, but ran, and ran all over the place sides, roof, and all even twining, and twisting, and growing right up amongst the two great old-fashioned chimney-stacks, round the pots, and some shoots even drooping in them, and getting black and dry amongst the smoke that came curling and wreathing out.

Philip leaped off his donkey, and they were one on each side of Fred, heartily shaking hands with him. "I say, ain't you our cousin?" said Harry, breathlessly. "Our cousin from London, you know," said Philip, "that was to come by this train?" "My name is Morris," said the traveller, rather pompously, "and I'm going on a visit to Mr Inglis's at Hollowdell." "Yes, to be sure!" said Harry.

Then there were so many pretty wildflowers in the banks and hedge-rows; so many birds to learn the names of, for they were all strangers to Fred, who only knew sparrows and they were different to the sparrows down here at Hollowdell and canaries and parrots.

Dumpling galloped, and Neddy went off at a double trot, upon hearing the railway-whistle, spinning along at such a rate that before Fred Morris had learned which path he was to take across the fields to go the shortest way to Squire Inglis's, of the Grange, Hollowdell and all of which information he was getting very slowly out of Jem Barnes Harry had jumped out of the chaise.

At last the morning dawned that was to be Fred's last at Hollowdell Grange, and sadly and gloomily he had proceeded overnight to pack up his things in the box he had brought down with him, merely leaving out such articles as were required for immediate use.

Altogether, Fred could not help, boy as he was, contrasting the bright country air and the lovely landscape with the fashionable London church in fashionable London: the hot dusty pavement the noisy street and the oppressive choky air; and then he thought how he would like to live at Hollowdell for ever.

But he was not quite successful, for Harry made a double, and ran off to pop his carp in the pond, but was back directly, and shortly after in the dining-room, feasting away with a country boy's appetite an appetite, too, that Fred already began to show symptoms of possessing, as the fruit of his visit to Hollowdell.