F.KKN1* B AMBLES IN SOUTH DEVON. 



Higli up in these same trees the blue sky peeps 

 at us through an opening, the blue being how- 

 ever momentarily obscured by the steam which is 

 puffed up from the station yard. Such little 

 incidents are somewhat trivial, but the tourist 

 knows how much life they sometimes add to 

 a scene. They in fact make up much of the 

 difference between a picture and the reality. A 

 town without motion or sign of human existence 

 would be dull and uninteresting to look upon, 

 however picturesque it might otherwise be; and 

 trees and fields and streams without moving 

 life, however rich in colouring and grand in aspect, 

 would lose more than half their charms. But we 

 must not digress. 



About a mile from the town our road com- 

 mences to skirt one side of the Dartington Wood 

 on the right. The sun is shining brightly, but at 

 this spot arching trees on each side of us envelop 

 the path in dark shadows. A little distance fur- 

 ther on, we reach a point in the road where a 

 rushing stream comes out of and flows for some 

 distance by the side of the wood. The scenery 

 at this spot is beautiful almost beyond descrip- 



99 



