CHAPTER III 



A Girl's mad Ride The Simonsbath Pony We beg a Cup of 

 Tea and get a great Surprise On the Moor 



TEN days had flown and we were seated in a 

 spring market cart bound for Simonsbath. Our 

 road for a mile or so was through narrow lanes 

 bound in by high flowering hedges which the trot- 

 ting strides of the useful cob would soon have left 

 behind had it not been that the scattered dwellings 

 are mostly built where the road makes its sharpest 

 bends, with their white sides jutting out as if to bar 

 the way. Steady your pace you must. Certainly 

 this gives a chance of passing greetings and a view 

 of the old-world gardens where flowers of every 

 colour make a brave display, which the bordering 

 hedgeside blossoms do their best to rival. 



" This very lane has sweets that all admire, 

 The rambling suckling and the vigorous brier ; 

 No fostering hand they need, no sheltering wall, 

 They spring uncultured and they bloom for all." 



Steep hills had to be encountered which, when 

 climbed, gave us opportunities to look down and 

 back upon the scenes where we had been so joyful 

 and talk of the homely people we had left behind. 

 Then came a detour round the height whereon are 

 remnants of a camp that tells of our Roman con- 

 querors ; and, soon after, Parracombe came in sight 

 and a view of Holwell Castle. From Blackmoor 



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