IN WILTSHIRE 305 



storm for the noise, which is a new parallel to 

 not seeing the trees for the wood. The gale 

 howled and the hail hissed to such a degree 

 that a trifle like a peal of thunder could easily 

 be mislaid. 



Under the circumstances I must be excused 

 for missing objects of interest I hoped to collect. 

 Singularly "collect" is one I did bag from a very 

 meagre rustic of whom I inquired my way when 

 half over to Beckhampton, not because I should 

 follow his directions, but for the sake of an 

 excuse to foregather with the old party. On his 

 employer's books he was laid up with the 

 ''neuralia," suffering also from strange pains 

 inwardly, which he thought might be due to 

 taking six nerve pills instead of two. In the 

 flesh, and very little of it, he would not take much 

 starving to make a skeleton. He was seeking 

 change of scene and variety out on the lonely road 

 under one of those heavy umbrellas only a rustic 

 would ever try to wrestle with, as relief from lone- 

 someness at home, where he did for himself, and 

 had not even a cat to talk to. Poor old man, he 

 dared not go into the public-house, because some 

 of his fellow-labourers, jealous of his life of ease 

 and luxury while invalided, might report him, 

 and the master put him to work, neuralgia in the 

 head or no neuralgia. A willing-hearted sort of 

 chap he was, but I should think longing for a 

 little society, accounted for his offering to 

 accompany me to the next finger-post, and, here 

 comes the word, ''correct" me on my way. 

 Fortunately, being able to read, I knew as much 

 as he did when we got to the " resurrections " set 

 forth on the fingers, which, needless to add, he 

 interpreted quite wrong. However, I believe 



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