II 



THE OTTER'S HOLT 



" To climb the trackless mountains all unseen . . . 

 This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold 



Converse with Nature's charms, and view her charms unrolled." 



BYRON. 



" '^TMSN'T a fox as lives in the Marged's passage door and have done 



A White Stones, sir," said my with ploughing and shearing; he'd 



visitor, " so you were wrong in your be welcome. There's a lovely life 



guess when you sent me to watch he'd be having with Anne Marged ! 



there yesterday. As far as I can She'd be fussing over 'n like a hen 



make out, the ' run ' leading down with one chick ; for, as you're know- 



from the earn to the pond where old ing, sir, she's an old maid, and for 



Aben washes his sheep is ' travelled ' all that she's a good-tempered body. 



by a different sort of animal. No- And once an old maid gets the fellow 



body but ourselves need know that, she's dulling on, she's like a mother 



whatever. A sheep-dog might turn and a missus and a lass all in one to 



clap-cat, but then, Aben's shepherd 'n. She don't take count of things 



don't go up so high on the moor, for like shortness o' breath, not she ! 'cept 



he can see what's nigh the earn from to mix bottles and bottles of camphor 



the foot of the hill, without climbing oil to rub on his chest ; and why ! all 



among the rocks. As for old Aben 'twixt her and him' s like a second spring, 



hisself, his breath's a bit too short as comes in the fall of the year." 



for clambering about the White Stones. My companion was an interesting 



Nigh every week, for years, on market gossip, and I let him ramble on with 



day in the village, Anne Marged his story of Aben's infirmities, his 



Jones at the shop's been giving 'n camphor oil and herb tea, and how by 



a packet of peppermint drops, extra- smoking the sun-dried leaves of colts- 



strong, to lengthen his breath, but foot the sufferer had sometimes found 



they don't work, and I s'pose hill- relief when Anne Marged's peppermint 



climbing '11 never be much to his drops were ineffectual. Presently the 



mind the more. tale was again of wild life on the moor. 



" It would be better for Aben to " Twas just about sundown when 



come down from the farm, and hang I got to the earn, sir. You'd told 



up his hat on the nail behind Anne me not to let anybody see me once 



