226 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



Why, I recollect — but perhaps I had better 

 recollect that I want to get to Doncaster and 

 have only about half started so far. We will, 

 therefore, skip the beautiful strip of low land 

 between London and Cambridge which some- 

 where about half-way has a ''divide," with the 

 Stort going south to the Lea and the Cam north 

 to the Ouse, and do ditto with Hereward's hunt- 

 ing-grounds in the fens. At least, I must have 

 a word about the fenland because of the Mark 

 Lane simple countrymen, fellow-travellers, whose 

 talk was of all manner of grain — and who quoted 

 each other's rates at odd halfpence, and apparently 

 knew as much about machinery as an engineer. 

 From them I was delighted to hear a generally 

 optimistic account of the corn harvest. Fine 

 indeed were the cereals all through the fens, and 

 the roots. 



I take quite an interest in roots in the Don- 

 caster connection because of the (alleged) non- 

 odoriferous sewage farm, run, I believe, by the 

 Corporation. Non olet is, as all are aware, one 

 of Danum's mottoes, and it acts up to that same, 

 being conveniently stone deaf, colour blind, or 

 what you call it where perfume is concerned, and 

 the town's reputation for Arabian scentiness. 

 This farm, you know, abuts on the town moor, 

 and goes a long way on the road towards Thorne, 

 where the bargees replenish their store of pure 

 water from the Don. Unfortunately I never can 

 crib time enough to get down the river so far as 

 Thorne, though now and again I manage part of 

 the journey along the Sheffield and Yorkshire 

 Canal's banks, doing a bit of surveying on my 

 own account. Amusing going it is, with the 

 canal a designedly winding waterway of consider- 



