THE COUNTRY-SIDE: SUSSEX. 85 
care for that there Brown chap, he bean’t no good; 
zo | jest put a cross agen he, and voted for Stiggins.’ 
The dream of life was accomplished, the labourer had 
a vote, and—irony—he voted exactly opposite to his 
intent. 
Too-whoo! ooo!—the sound of a horn,—the hunt 
was up; but this was not the hunting season. Looking 
out of the kiln door I saw a boy running at full speed 
down the lane with a small drain-pipe tucked under his 
arm. He stopped, put the pipe to his mouth, and blew 
a blast on this ‘dread horn,’ then jumped through a gap 
in the hedge and disappeared. They were playing fox 
and hounds; who but a boy would have thought of 
using a drain-pipe for a horn? It gave a good note, 
too. In and about the kiln I learned that if you smash 
a frog with a stone, no matter how hard you hit him, he 
cannot die till sunset. You must be careful not to put 
on any new article of clothing for the first time on a 
Saturday, or some severe punishment will ensue. One 
person put on his new boots on a Saturday, and on 
Monday broke his arm. Some still believe in herbs, 
and gather wood-betony for herb tea, or eat dandelion 
leaves between slices-of dry toast. There is an old 
man living in one of the villages who has reached the 
age of a hundred and sixty years, and still goes hop- ° 
picking. Ever so many people had seen him, and knew 
all about him; an undoubted fact, a public fact ; but I 
could not trace him to his lair. His exact whereabouts 
could not be fixed. I live in hopes of finding him in 
some obscure ‘ Hole’ yet (many little hamlets are 
‘Holes, as Froghole, Foxhole). What an exhibit for 
London! Did he realise his own value, he would soon 
come forth. I joke, but the existence of this antique 
person is firmly believed in. Sparrows are called 
