48 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



taking news from us for a big bookmaker. We 

 had only gone there because some of the 

 company refused to believe in my yarn about 

 Mr Burbidge being feasible — an anecdote I set 

 out to give miles back, but once I am going on 

 the downs I never seem able to get off them 

 again. (I never would, if I had my choice and 

 a handy house to live in.) One foggy evening 

 Mr Burbidge set forth from Lewes to go home ; 

 to that end he rode all night long, determined 

 to find Telscombe ; but did not until daylight did 

 appear. This is true of the old gentleman, who 

 thought he knew every inch of the land, every 

 cart-rut, flint on the turf, and blade of grass. 



His own version was that he might have been 

 riding round Telscombe till kingdom come and 

 not spot it but for daylight ; and what is true of 

 that locale holds pretty much for the whole tract. 

 Once you get off your line ever so little in the 

 dark, or even dusk, and goodness only knows 

 where you may not stray to. As I was a-saying, 

 I landed at four in the afternoon on the crown of 

 Plumpton Borstal — next-door neighbour but one 

 to the highest point in the range, Ditchling 

 Beacon. I should say we landed, for a game 

 little toddler, an ex-steeplechaser rider, was with 

 me, as also a sort of unattached companion, an 

 old soldier of twelve years' service, not so very 

 much more than twice so much in age, and no 

 pension at all, a Lanky Lad from 'Owdham, who 

 had served in India and South Africa. Down in 

 the Weald I heard my gentleman asking his 

 shortest way to Brighton, and being locally 

 directed to *' Go up to the top of that road on to 

 the downs, turn to the right till you get to the 

 telegraph wires, and follow them till you get to 



