50 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



a bit of prehistoric country almost untouched 

 in the centuries since the chalk waves were 

 formed, no scientific man knows how. I could 

 have wasted quite a lot of time taking in the 

 strange changing aspects, for the tints went out 

 to greyness as the sun dipped into the sea, and 

 the moon, clearing the vapours, gave out its white 

 light, cruelly cold, the colour of a chalk-hill blue's 

 wing, but dwelling was not advisable if you didn't 

 want to be caught. Moreover, the soldier man 

 gave a strongish hint. The overpowering soli- 

 tude had knocked all the Tommy self-sufficiency 

 out of him. ''Is this the downs, mister?" he 

 inquired rather anxiously. " Yes," says I ; " and 

 the man down in Plumpton told you to turn off 

 here and keep to the right." "'Strewth," he 

 says, " I don't turn off nowhere nor slip you till 

 I'm on the hard road again." 



He was a man of his word, and a wise one, 

 too, for the way was difficult, and not made more 

 easy by our finding the gates of Lord Chichester's 

 park locked when we came to that last link in a 

 short cut and were obliged to climb a hill like a 

 church steeple, all ice and slippery, so that your 

 feet went away from you, and your nose rubbed 

 itself painfully on the cold grass or mole hills' 

 gritty surface. However, by hook or by crook, 

 we made shift to go round where we might not 

 get through, and arrived latish at Falmer Station, 

 whence I dispatched the warrior, forepaid and the 

 price of a drop of beer over, with suggestion that 

 if ever he was this way again in summer he 

 should test the downs' charms. The poor man 

 had no eye for the picturesque — at least, not if I 

 may judge from his reply, " Not me, never again, 

 winter nor summer ; not if there was an electric 



