A HUNT ¥0R THE NIGHTINGALE 103 



At nine o'clock I gave over the pursuit and 

 returned to Easing in quest of breakfast. Bringing 

 up in front of the large and comfortable-looking 

 inn, I found the mistress of the house with her 

 daughter engaged in washing windows. Perched 

 upon their step-ladders, they treated my request for 

 breakfast very coldly; in fact, finally refused to 

 listen to it at all. The fires were out, and I could 

 not be served. So I must continue my walk back 

 to Goldalming; and, in doing so, I found that one 

 may walk three miles on indignation quite as easily 

 as upon bread. 



In the afternoon I returned to my lodgings at 

 Shotter Mill, and made ready for a walk to Sel- 

 borne, twelve miles distant, part of the way to be 

 accomplished that night in the gloaming, and the 

 rest early on the following morning, to give the 

 nightingales a chance to make any reparation they 

 might feel inclined to for the neglect with which 

 they had treated me. There was a footpath over the 

 hill and through Leechmere bottom to Liphook, 

 and to this, with the sun half an hour high, I 

 committed myself. The feature in this hill scenery 

 of Surrey and Sussex that is new to American eyes 

 is given by the furze and heather, broad black or 

 dark-brown patches of which sweep over the high 

 rolling surfaces, like sable mantles. Tennyson's 

 house stands amid this dusky scenery, a few miles 

 east of Hazlemere. The path led through a large 

 common, partly covered with grass and partly 

 grown up to furze, — another un-American feature. 



