The window over the judgment-seat had painted glass in it, and so, I
think, had some of the hall windows. At the end of the hall hung a great
picture of Paul defending himself before Agrippa, where the Apostle
looked like an athlete, and had a remarkably bushy black beard. Between
two of the windows hung an Indian bell from Burmah, ponderously thick and
massive. Both the picture and the bell had been presented to the city as
tokens of affectionate remembrance by its children; and it is pleasant to
think that such failings exist in these old stable communities, and that
there are permanent localities where such gifts can be kept from
generation to generation.
At four o'clock we left the city of York, still in a pouring rain. The
Black Swan, where we had been staying, is a good specimen of the old
English inn, sombre, quiet, with dark staircases, dingy rooms, curtained
beds,--all the possibilities of a comfortable life and good English fare,
in a fashion which cannot have been much altered for half a century. It
is very homelike when one has one's family about him, but must be
prodigiously stupid for a solitary man.
We took the train for Manchester, over pretty much the same route that I
travelled last year. Many of the higher hills in Yorkshire were white
with snow, which, in our lower region, softened into rain; but as we
approached Manchester, the western sky reddened, and gave promise of
better weather. We arrived at nearly eight o'clock, and put up at the
Palatine Hotel.
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