8 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



lot of thunderbolts (iron pyrites, are they not ?) 

 revealed by the water's rush, which had scraped 

 off the face of the chalk roadway. 



You all forget, don't you, sometimes ? I did 

 with these precious curiosities. They are 

 curiosities in several senses, and more particu- 

 larly because no one can account for their 

 presence in the chalk (so says legend), unless 

 they do really come with the lightning, or did 

 drop from aerolites. As I was going to say 

 about forgetfulness : here had I been fossicking 

 about — fossicking, please, not fossilising — and 

 collecting specimens by the dozen which were 

 stowed in my pockets. When the apparent 

 supply was exhausted I moved up over the brow 

 on to the Downs to refresh myself with wild 

 raspberries which hereabouts grow by the 

 thousand (of canes), and after treating myself 

 to as many as I cared for, I experienced a most 

 unusual sensation — that is, I could scarcely drag 

 about. I was tired, oh ! so tired all at once ; so 

 very tired that I wanted to sit down and calmly 

 consider the situation, which began to appear 

 rather serious, and for choice go to sleep. There 

 I was, right on the crest of a long series of high 

 downs and for all the prospect of being come 

 across by anyone in two or three days, I might 

 almost as well have been on a desert island. 

 What was to become of me if I collapsed ? 

 What was I to do if this extreme lassitude, this 

 inability to walk my weight was progressive ? 

 (You pull your weight, so why not walk your 

 weight ? If you understand the rowing expres- 

 sion, the other puts a case very handily.) 

 Suppose that I grew tired, more tired, most 

 tired, and became a fixture — and I did feel quite 



