CHAPTER III 



IN THE VALE OF THE WHITE HORSE 



THE WHITE HORSE OF BERKSHIRE, ITS ORIGIN THE 

 SCOURING OUR PLEASANT QUARTERS MAY FLY 

 TIME WATCHING A BIG TROUT HOOKED AND 

 LOST A PAIR OF DOVES 



"I go 



Where thousand flaming flowers grow ; 

 And every neighbouring hedge I greet 

 With honeysuckle smelling sweet ; 

 Now o'er the daisied meads I stray 

 And meet with, as I pace my way, 

 Sweetly shining on my eye 

 A rivulet gliding smoothly by. " 

 DYER. 



June, 1901. 



was in the vale of the renowned 

 White Horse of Berkshire that I 

 went in search of the May Fly, 

 and a few other thing besides, in 

 this month of June, 1 90 1 . There are other white 



