u8 Hillside. 



stretch of the imagination be considered as in the slightest 

 degree picturesque. The smoke rises densely from the 

 river, where lies the thriving and rising town of Strood, 

 joined by a stone bridge, which we see yonder spanning the 

 river, to its more ancient and less active neighbour. Only a 

 few years ago a single street, surrounded by marshes, repre- 

 sented the Strood that Dickens knew ; now the marshes have 

 been drained, and a large town has been built on the ague- 

 haunted spot, not altogether healthy yet, however, as an 

 occasional outbreak of disease testifies. 



These hills run east and west, and form part of the great 

 chalk range known as the North Downs. Eoughly speaking, 

 there are three somewhat parallel ridges ; into the valleys 

 between them the clay and sands which cap the chalk have 

 been washed, forming excellent beds of brick earth, which, 

 as we see, is being worked in the hollows. The most 

 northerly of these ridges slopes towards the Thames, and at 

 the base of the slope are the diluvial deposits in which many 

 remains, testifying to man's existence in pre-historic times, 

 have been found. 



But to return to the river. From our point of vantage we 

 can trace its course for miles as it makes its way through the 

 range of hills upon which we stand. The range, as I have 

 said, runs east and west, and the river travelling from south 

 to north cuts it almost at right angles. To the right, where 

 it first comes into sight in the distance, lies Maidstone, just 

 hidden by the most southerly of the three ridges ; and as it 

 pursues its meandering course, ever widening, ever increas- 

 ing in bulk, we notice great mud flats at its side ; the eye 

 follows it along until, sweeping under Rochester Bridge, it 

 is almost lost in the smoky haze caused by the horrid ex- 



