66 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



or more of it, right up to the next mill at Great 

 Ottley. There the beech wood behind the mill 

 thrusts out jealously from the downs to remind 

 us that the river is not the only thing worthy 

 of our admiration. Yet, were we angling to-day 

 and not painting, I would very gladly point out 

 to you the many excellent features of that water. 

 For I have never fished it, and my acquaintance 

 with it is purely imaginary. Yet with what 

 trouts and graylings have I furnished it as I have 

 sat up here and wandered in fancy where it shines 

 among its water-meadows pulling them out. 

 That great red and grey Jacobean house is 

 Beaulieu (you know, I suppose, how to pronounce 

 that so as to be understood hereabouts), and that 

 is the park with its long green avenue of ancient 

 limes. And there is the Italian garden, all statues 

 and solemn trim hedges and fountains and 

 terraces, and to the right the old square, red- 

 walled fruit garden, and to the left the formal 

 pattern of the rose garden. It looks like a little 

 carpet from this high place. 



You can see the tiny village of Beaulieu, there 

 by the end of the avenue. Six or seven houses 

 and a little inn, the " Three Moles " they call it. 

 But for these and their big house and the mill at 

 Great Ottley and the chimneys of Great Ottley 

 House (the next mansion in a valley of mansions), 



