82 WILD LIFE IN A SOUTHERN COUNTY. 



The only thing to be remembered in dealing with a 

 village cobbler is, if you want a pair of boots, to order 

 them six months beforehand, or you will be dis- 

 appointed. The business occupies him about as long 

 as it takes a shipwright to build a ship. 



Under the trees of the' lane that connects one part 

 of the village with another stands a wooden post, once 

 stout now decaying ; and opposite it at some distance 

 the remnants of a second. This was a ropewalk, but 

 has long since fallen into disuse the tendency of the 

 age having for a long time been to centralize industry 

 of all kinds. It is true that of late years many manu- 

 facturers have found it profitable to remove their 

 workshops from cities into the country, the rent of 

 premises being so much less, water to be got by sink- 

 ing a well, less rates, and wages a little cheaper. They 

 retain a shop and office in the cities, but have the 

 work done miles away. But even this is distinctly 

 associated with centralization. The workmen are 

 merely paid human machines ; they do not labour 

 for their own hands in their own little shops at home, 

 or as the rope-maker slowly walked backwards here, 

 twisting the hemp under the elms of the lane, after- 

 wards, doubtless, to take the manufactured article 

 himself to market and offer his wares for sale from a 

 stand in the street. 



The millwright used to be a busy man here and there 

 in the villages ; but the railways take the wheat to the 

 steam mills of cities, and where the water-mills yet run, 

 ironwork has supplanted wood. In some few places 



