404 DARTMOOR AND THE DART. 



Beside the road which rises from the bridge, the 

 elegantly cut lady-fern suddenly becomes so abund- 

 ant as to be characteristic, throwing out its arching 

 fronds from the walls, mingled, However, with the 

 everywhere profuse hard-fern and brake. 



Far up on the naked moor, a little black object 

 appears, to which our attention is drawn. We might 

 have imagined it a traveller's portmanteau dropped 

 from a carriage, or a bit of india-rubber left by a 

 sketcher, so minute it looks on the desolate mountain 

 side, with no other object near with which to com- 

 pare it. We are told it is a school ; a school en- 

 dowed by two benevolent ladies. A school, forsooth ! 

 we should almost as soon have expected a coffee-house 

 or a jeweller's shop. Where do the children come 

 from ? we asked. At last we reach it, the road lead- 

 ing by the door. It is built of corrugated iron, like 

 a temporary railway station, and however we might 

 have doubted the call for such a building, there are 

 the urchins within. Through the open door we see 

 them sitting at the desks, gazing furtively at us, 

 doubtless envying us freedom and a ride. The school 

 rejoices in the euphonious appellation of Brimps. 



Not far from this, our civil and intelligent driver 

 took fire at the occurrence of a wall, which he had 

 not seen before, not having been so far from home 

 for a twelvemonth or more. It is a noble wall, well- 

 built of massive blocks of granite split out of these 

 endless Tors, and put together without the least bit 

 of cement, the solidity and weight of the pieces 



