THE FAERY YEAR 



naive description by Gilbert White of how the 

 biggest of the three great bells, on its arrival at 

 Selborne, was fixed bottom upwards and, by order of 

 the giver, filled with punch for the villagers. The 

 peal of bells ought to be religiously preserved ; this 

 and the great yew which soon will be dusting the 

 air once again with its gold shower and Timothy's 

 shell and the summer-house and the sundial are 

 of enduring fame. Timothy's shell, unhappily, has 

 been allowed to leave Selborne ; and long ago I saw 

 the summer-house falling to ruin. White's sundial 

 and the very oak, round which, perhaps, he saw the 

 fern-owls hawking, were still in the grounds a few 

 years ago. I hope the dial will never be taken from 

 Selborne. 



Physically, Selborne can hardly have changed 

 since White's day ; it grows the same crops ; the 

 hanger is clothed now, as then, by the beech tree 

 the most lovely of all forest trees to White's view, 

 whether "we consider its smooth rind or bark, its 

 glossy foliage, or graceful pendulous boughs." Nore 

 Hill, where the chalk crops up, is just as it was of 

 old. There is a rapture in chalk which, perhaps, 

 you should be born at least bred in to know. 

 The swell and smoothness of the vast chalk downs, 

 the sameness, the restful sense of immense age, 

 infinitely slow making and complete finish about 

 them, the elastic spring of the turf these are a 

 great appeal. " For my part, I think there is some- 

 thing peculiarly sweet and amusing in the shapely 

 figured aspect of chalk hills in preference to those 

 4 



