THE PORTSMOUTH ROAD 



171 



sides, which much puzzles amiable youths rusty in their 

 Latinity, when, accompanied by inquisitive maidens, they 

 have breasted the steep pitch of the hill. 



And now it is all down hill into Liphook, five miles 

 from Hindhead, and here late coaches made up for lost 

 time. The Seven Thorns inn, a little way down the 

 road, is supposed to stand where the three counties 

 meet ; but it doesn't, for they meet in Hammer Bottom, 





The Seven Thorns. 



which is some distance away. The Seven Thorns, apart 

 from this undeserved distinction, has the reputation of 

 being a legendary house ; but I have never been able 

 to discover what legend is attached to it ; nor indeed, 

 so far as I am aware, has anybody else. It was how- 

 ever the scene of an adventure in a snowstorm, which I 

 find chronicled in the Reverend G. N. Godwin's Green 

 Lanes of Hampshire, Surrey, and Sussex, and which 



