MOORLAND IDYLLS. 



bare and weather-beaten pine-tree, when 

 talk fell by chance on the small brown 

 lizards that skulk among the sandy soil of 

 our hilltop. I said, and I believe, that the 

 lizard population of the British Isles must 

 outnumber the human by many, many 

 millions. For every sandy heath is just a 

 London of lizards. They pullulate in the 

 ling like slum-children in Whitechapel. 

 They were about us, I remarked, as thick 

 as Hyde Park demonstrators ; only, instead 

 of demonstrating, they prefer to lie low 

 and conceal their identity. The policeman 

 hawks and the owls on night duty have 

 taught them that wisdom stern Draconian 

 officers of nature's executive, who know no 

 gentler punishment than the death penalty 

 for the slightest misdemeanour. 



The Editor smiled that sceptical smile 

 which is the terror of young contributors of 

 Notes on Novels. He rejected the lizards 

 like unsuitable copy. He didn't believe in 

 them. He doubted there were any on the 

 116 



