128 THE WILD-FLOWERS OF SELBORNE 



the old house in which the great naturalist lived for 

 five-and-twenty years is now only a memory. There 

 was nothing in its outward appearance specially to 

 distinguish it from other farmhouses in the neighbour- 

 hood. A long, low, narrow building, made of lath 

 and plaster set in oaken frames, the great red brick 

 chimney-stack standing against the south wall was 

 the chief indication of its age. The old seventeenth 

 century lattice-windows had been removed from the 

 front side of the house some years ago, and this to a 

 certain extent had modernised the appearance of the 

 building. But inside the arrangement of the house 

 was most characteristic of its builder. Cupboards 

 were to be met with in every conceivable situation, 

 in the parlours and bedrooms, on the landings and 

 under the stairs, some as large as pantries, others 

 only a few feet square with small openings in the 

 walls of the passages and rooms. These cupboards 

 were doubtless contrived by the illustrious naturalist 

 with a view to the safe custody of his botanical and 

 zoological specimens. The woodwork of the cottage 

 was entirely of oak, massive oak doors and doorways, 

 wide planks of oak flooring, black beams of oak across 

 the low ceilings. Ray's study was upstairs, situated 

 at the back of the house, over the scullery where the 

 fatal fire broke out, and looking across the garden 

 towards the west. This seems to have been the one 

 warm room of the house, which Ray speaks of in one 

 of his letters as " exposed to the north and north-east 

 winds," and as "inconvenient to one who is subject to 

 colds and whose lungs are apt to be affected." And 

 that unpretending chamber, with its sloping ceilings, 

 its wide oaken boards, its ancient lattice windows, was 

 haunted by the most interesting associations. There 



