A BIT OF ENGLAND 171 



In spring the children of Crowsnest come here for 

 the wood violets burning blue amidst the brown 

 last autumn leaves ; the glades are purple with the 

 wild hyacinths, and the voice of the cuckoo here 

 is a thing never to be forgotten. In autumn the 

 children come for nuts. No poem of tone or word 

 conceived by man can approach the poetry of 

 these glades, no picture their simple beauty; 

 they are the home of Oberon and Titania, and they 

 are rented by Colonel Bingham. 



The colonel Hves, or lived at the time of this 

 story, at the Hall, which is the chief house of the 

 neighbourhood, a neighbourhood parcelled up into 

 small country seats. Three acres and a house 

 would about constitute one of these seats, and 

 they stretch right round the hill of Crowsnest, 

 invading even the rise of the downs. 



The Bungalow is situated on the downs ; a good 

 road of fairly easy ascent leads up to it, and look- 

 ing from the verandah of the Bungalow you can 

 see, below, the roofs of all the country seats, the 

 walls forming their frontiers, and, with a good 

 glass, the seat-holders promenading in their 

 gardens. 



From here the Roman road looks hke a white 

 cotton ribbon ; the woods and gardens, the tennis- 

 lawns no bigger than biUiard-tables, the red- tiled 

 houses no larger than rabbit-hutches, form a 

 pretty enough picture to smoke a cigarette and 

 ponder over on a warm afternoon. The people 

 down there seem playing at Hfe, and finding the 



