CHAPTER IV 



THE DOWNS IN WINTER 



Naturally, when I wanted to expatiate to 

 strangers on the uplands and downlands com- 

 manded by Chanctonbury Ring where it towers 

 above Steyning, we found a fog. Perhaps not 

 unreasonable in February and a hard frost ; but 

 somehow fog has almost always happened to me 

 on occasions permitting a visit to that living 

 memorial, a landmark with which everybody 

 almost who has been in Sussex is acquainted, for 

 which we and the countryside have to thank the 

 Gorings of WIston. The frost having thrown 

 me out of work after a fashion, because of stop- 

 ping many sports, by way of making overtime, I 

 paid half-holiday, part business visits to the quadri- 

 lateral — or something like that it is — shaped 

 range of downs bounded on the east by the Adur 

 River, the west by the Worthing-to- London stage- 

 coach route, and the north by Weald, and south- 

 wards, trending to the sea-shore, are West Sussex 

 lowlands, some salt-marsh, some of higher level, 

 where the fig tree ripens its fruit in the open, 

 asparagus brings itself on early, fruit trees gener- 

 ally flourish exceedingly, the best of sea-kale and 

 tomatoes reward gardeners, and, as a good lady, 



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