320 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



As for fame — fame ! Well, look here and 

 listen to me if you want to know about fame. 

 Attracted by the large and varied assortment of 

 wide, tall, feathery, dense, spindly, bushy gin or 

 juniper trees — called, I believe, ''The Junipers" 

 — I wandered away from Mr Frank Hartigan's 

 pinkwashed house, with its most picturesque and 

 very excellent stabling, and must have got three- 

 quarters of a mile off. At that remote range no 

 soul I met had ever heard of Captain Saunders 

 Davies, Mr W. H. Moore, nor the present 

 occupant of the stables, some of which were 

 built by a great horse-dealer, Mr Barnes. 

 Wagoners I met, hinds doing something to the 

 land I came upon earning their wage, game- 

 keepers' good ladies and woodcutters' families I 

 called up, seeking knowledge for myself and 

 finding none. Could they tell me where Mr 

 Hartigan's horses did their work? They could 

 not, because they had never heard of Mr 

 Hartigan, nor his occupation, nor his horses 

 either. Citing Why Not, The Soarer, and 

 Manifesto, all Grand National horses, trained 

 almost on the edge of the fair ground — and 

 what a champion. Manifesto ! — not to mention 

 the then favourite for the National, could not 

 touch any spot within their memory's armour. 

 They knew and cared for none of these things. 

 All that mentioning the creatures effected was to 

 render the peasantry somewhat suspicious of your 

 working up to a sell. They are worse even 

 than the district's finger-posts ; you can get 

 some information out of the latter ; the trouble 

 is to know what to do with it. Whatever artist 

 set these up was not too eager to put you in the 

 way you should go. He left you so that you 



