Ives and back again. They
are fine, sturdy, prosperous village communities, that mind their
own business, and take their pleasure in religion and in song, like
their forefathers the fenmen, Girvii, who sang their three-part
catches with rude harmony.
Part of the charm of the place is, I confess, its loneliness. One
may go for weeks together with hardly a caller; there are no social
functions, no festivities, no gatherings. One may once in a month
have a chat with a neighbour, or take a cup of tea at a kindly
parsonage. But people tend to mind their own business, and live
their own lives in their own circle; yet there is an air of
tranquil neighbourliness all about. The inhabitants of the region
respect one's taste in choosing so homely and serene a region for a
dwelling-place, and they know that whatever motive one may have
had for coming, it was not dictated by a feverish love of society.
I have never known a district--and I have lived in many parts of
England--where one was so naturally and simply accepted as a part
of the place.
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