A KENTISH PARISH 61 



pasture, shut in by their ox-fences and blind bull- 

 finches, are associated with fields of magnificently- 

 mounted men following the streaming pack at flying 

 speed ; where each cover and gorse thicket may have 

 its litter of foxes, and every mansion of any pretension 

 its grand ranges of hunting stables. It may lie among 

 the wheat-stubbles and mangel-wurzels of the eastern 

 counties, where countless coveys are basking on the 

 sunny banks, and each corner of wood and spinney in 

 the season sends up its constellation of rocketing 

 pheasants ; or it may be down among the meres and 

 decoys of the fens, where fogs envelop everything in a 

 vapoury mantle, and the amphibious inhabitants are 

 happily half fever-proof. Or among the tors and 

 moors of Devon, where herds of shaggy ponies run 

 wild with the sheep and the red deer ; or among the 

 rocks and blasted heaths of Cornwall, where one half 

 the parishioners hazard their lives underground, while 

 the other half are tempting Providence on the surges 

 of the tempest-driven ocean. It may be half hidden out 

 of sight in woodlands and hedgerow timber, with lanes 

 winding like covered ways under masses of impenetrable 

 foliage ; or it may be a wide expanse of featureless plain, 

 the horror of mountaineers and the paradise of coursers. 

 Or if you turn from the country to the town, the 

 fancy takes a fresh departure. Man and his handiwork 

 have come to the front, and nature is only existing on 

 sufferance. Here you have forests of masts, and there 

 you have stacks of factory-chimneys. There are great 

 blocks of warehouses and offices where there is bustle 



