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But my favourite ramble, eclipsing all others now in pleasant recollections of by-gone days, was through the Prebend's Walk, bordered with its noble grove of stately lime trees and oaks and elms on either hand; and passing by open fields, that are, in spring, rich with yellow buttercups and star-spangled daisies, and, in summer, ripe with the aromatic odours of new-mown hay.
I had to determine that point, at all events. I could not settle it in a moment: it was far too weighty a consideration it required serious deliberation. So, I paced on, still moodily to the end of the Prebend's Walk; and, although it was raining heavily, sat down on the stone balustrade of the little rustic bridge over the fosse, facing the river. "Ah me!"
The stately lime-trees bend as I pass them by; and, seem to sigh for her who is gone, never to return. The ruined fosse, stagnant and moss- covered, speaks of ruin and desolation. The crumbling walls that once encircled the Prebend's residence, also reveal the slowly-sure power of the destroyer's hand, more and more apparent each year that rolls over them.
I do not think, by the way, that a very learned and distinguished philosopher was so very much out in his reckoning after all, when he laid down the general dogma, that all men are more or less mad. I know, at all events, that I felt mad enough at this moment, as I was careering along the Prebend's Walk. I was almost nerved up to desperation.
Jacob Mountain, was given livings by the younger Pitt in Lincolnshire and Huntingdonshire in England, and later a prebend's stall in Lincoln Cathedral. When a diocese was created in Canada his name was at once suggested, because of his success at home, and in 1793 he came to Canada to become the first Anglican Bishop of Quebec.
Addison's on the same occasion, ran to five hundred and ninety-four lines, and contained compliments enough to please the great Duke of Marlborough, who sent for its author, rewarded him with the chaplaincy of Colonel Lepelle's regiment, and promised him a prebend's stall.
The burning, suffocating heat of the summer "in the States," caused me to pant after the cool shade of the old Prebend's walk at Saint Canon's; and call to mind those inviting lawns and osiered eyots along the Thames, where I used to spend the warm evenings at home.
The Prebend's Walk, beyond where the lime-grove ends, whence the prebend's residence can be faintly distinguished through the clustering masses of tree-foliage, merges into the open, commanding the river in front; but it is still marked out by a stray elm or horse-chestnut, placed at scanty intervals, to keep up the idea of the ancient avenue beyond.
I also frequently passed her mother and herself in the street, or on The Terrace, or along the Prebend's Walk, when I was taking an airing abroad with dog Catch at my heels; yet, I don't know how it was, but I invariably chanced to be on the opposite side of the street, or road, or terrace, whenever I thus passed them.
The membranes, like a monk's The throat, like a pincushion cowl. stuffed with oakum. The funnel, like a mason's chisel. The lungs, like a prebend's The fornix, like a casket. fur-gown. The glandula pinealis, like a bag- The heart, like a cope. pipe. The mediastine, like an earthen The rete mirabile, like a gutter. cup. The dug-like processus, like a The pleura, like a crow's bill. patch.
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