It was dreadful to think that such devastating changes had been made, but it had certainly existed as he saw it in his mind, and he would inquire of some of the old men in the place, who would perhaps be able to tell him where his home had stood thirty years ago.
At once he set about interviewing all the old men he came upon in his rounds, describing to them the farm tenanted by a man named Dyson about forty years ago, and by and by he got hold of one who knew.

He listened for a few minutes to the oft-repeated story, then exclaimed, "Why, sir, 'tis surely Woodyates you be talking about!" "That's the name! That's the name," he cried.

"Woodyyates-how did I ever forget it! You knew it then--where was it ?" "I'll just show you," said the old man, proud at having guessed rightly, and turning started slowly hobbling along till he got to the end of the lane.
There was an opening there and a view of the valley with trees, blue in the distance, at the furthest visible point.

"Do you see them trees ?" he said.

"That's where Harping is; 'tis two miles or, perhaps, a little more from Thorpe.