2o6 WITHIN AN HOUR OF LONDON TOWN. 



of fresh green were self-sown firs. The thorns, 

 both white and black, are ancient, covered from 

 root to topmost twig with lichen and grey moss. 

 The trees that line the road have, as I noticed 

 before, their roots above the surface, running in all 

 directions. 



Each fir has its own circlet of roots, covered 

 over with mosses from the base of the trunk to 

 the finest root-end, that shows above ground. They 

 look like huge spider-webs spread about. The 

 never-ceasing run of the water from above is con- 

 tinually carrying minute atoms of the soil into the 

 trout-stream that rises here ; for this is the source of 

 the Tillingbourne. 



On the hillside near the stream a luxuriant 

 growth of bracken droops over. It has not been 

 cut here, and it simply hangs, "nodding to its fall" 

 in great masses of rich brown and orange, the tones 

 brought up by the nearness of the dark foliage of 

 the firs. What it must have been in the bright 

 glad summer-time I cannot tell, but it is glorious 

 in November, in the time of the falling leaf. In 

 some parts, where the moor undulates, the stream 

 forms little pools. From these moorland mirrors 



