132 ON SURREY HILLS. 



parts, lazily brushing the flies off with their long tails 

 as they stand feeding on the tops of the lush river- 

 grass. 



There are quiet and beautiful nooks beside the 

 woodland Mole. Here and there are the ruins of 

 some old mill which once was busy and full ; and 

 you can trace through the meadows the spot where a 

 mill-pond had its source. The meadow lies even now 

 two, and in some places four feet, below the banks of 

 what was once the pond. Even the walls of the 

 sluice-gates remain, covered over with ferns and 

 mosses of varied tints. One of these it was which 

 suggested Eliza Cook's poem, " The Old Water- 

 Mill," beginning, " And is this the old mill stream ? " 

 Although modern improvements have destroyed 

 much of the picturesqueness of rural life, there is 

 still plenty of it left, if one only knows where to 

 look for it. This was a favourite haunt, during her 

 childhood, of the poetess who has so lately gone 

 to her rest. She loved this old mill, and wrote of 

 it more than once. In "The Old Mill Stream" 

 she says 



" I wonder if still the young anglers begin, 

 As I did, with willow-wand, pack-thread, and pin ; 



