204 ON SURREY HILLS. 



for three whole miles. There will be plenty of com- 

 pany for us there — magpies will follow us chatter- 

 ing noisily, jays will squawk, and the squirrels will 

 scold, stamp, and chatter as we invade their domain 

 and pass through the aisles of their fir sanctuary. 

 What amusing creatures they are when the quiet 

 of their lonely haunts is disturbed ! You can see 

 the ends of the fir-boughs sway and bend as if 

 moved by the wind. Fir - cones fall on you, and 

 you pass over older dead ones which have been 

 shaken off by the rush of the long-tailed, tuft-eared 

 fellows. The resinous balm of the trees invigorates 

 one, and we feel fit for any number of miles still. 



The woods seem too quickly passed through, and 

 we come out to find at our feet, in the long valley 

 below us, one of the most beautiful rural scenes 

 that exists in England. A little hamlet nestles at 

 the very bottom of the hills. What few cottages 

 there are line either side of the valley, with a path 

 in front of each lot. A clear, rippling trout-stream- 

 divides them, bridged over for purposes of neigh- 

 bourly convenience in one or two places by rough 

 planks. The fruitful and well-kept gardens are well 

 sheltered from all hurtful winds, down in this hollow 



