balustrade.

Master Simon had now to hurry off, having an appointment at the parish
church with the village choristers, who were to perform some music of
his selection. There was something extremely agreeable in the cheerful
flow of animal spirits of the little man; and I confess I had been
somewhat surprised at his apt quotations from authors who certainly
were not in the range of every-day reading. I mentioned this last
circumstance to Frank Bracebridge, who told me with a smile that Master
Simon's whole stock of erudition was confined to some half-a-dozen old
authors, which the Squire had put into his hands, and which he read over
and over, whenever he had a studious fit; as he sometimes had on a
rainy day, or a long winter evening. Sir Anthony Fitzherbert's "Book of
Husbandry;" Markham's "Country Contentments;" the "Tretyse of Hunting,"
by Sir Thomas Cockayne, Knight; Izaak Walton's "Angler," and two
or three more such ancient worthies of the pen, were his standard
authorities; and, like all men who know but a few books, he looked up
to them with a kind of idolatry, and quoted them on all occasions. As
to his songs, they were chiefly picked out of old books in the Squire's
library, and adapted to tunes that were popular among the choice spirits
of the last century. His practical application of scraps of literature,
however, had caused him to be looked upon as a prodigy of book-knowledge
by all the grooms, huntsmen, and small sportsmen of the neighbourhood.

While we were talking we heard the distant toll of the village bell,
and I was told that the Squire was a little particular in having his
household at church on a Christmas morning; considering it a day of
pouring out of thanks and rejoicing; for, as old Tusser observed:

"At Christmas be merry, and thankful withal,