318 
MEMOIR OF 
specimens of a past fashion, which White must have often 
examined, may be even have placed there. 
The deepest well in Selborne is at the hotel ; it never fails, and 
is said to be sixty-six feet deep. The visitor should not fail to 
visit the Zigzag. This is a rough pathway up the side of a very 
steep hill, which forms part of the hanger or copse which faces 
the back of Mr. Bell's house. The term hanger is old Saxon for 
a wood. Holt is also an old Saxon term for wood ; we find it in 
Aldershott, which was formerly Alders-holt, and also in the 
word Hainhault. The soil of the Zigzag is chalk, easy enough to 
ascend when dry, but with dew or rain it becomes almost dan- 
gerous. At the top there is a splendid view for miles around. 
At the bottom of the hanger I was fortunate in meeting with 
Mr. Wells, farmer, of Selborne. He pointed out to me close 
to the gate — which, by the way, requires mending — a shiver-leaf 
aspen, which is said to have been planted by .Gilbert White. 
It is eight feet six round and about a hundred feet high. In 
the field close by are two large stones, excessively hard and 
of a peculiar formation, like pudding stone. Mr. AVells informed 
me that when they were making the new road to Alton they 
found an enormous stone ; they " blew him into three, and these 
were two of the pieces." 
While we were examining these stones, as it was just get- 
ting dark, a remarkable-looking figure passed us. Mr. Wells 
informed me that this was an idiot boy who lived in the village. 
I immediately thought of the idiot boy mentioned by White at 
p. 197. The letter in which the boy is mentioned is dated 1775. 
It seems a very strange coincidence that the second villager I 
met at Selborne should be a successor of White's idiot boy, 
of exactly a hundred years ago. The present idiot has not yet 
taken a fancy to bees as did White's lad ; he gets his living by 
needlework with his mother. Towards nightfall he is in the 
habit of prowling about the place and catching hedgehogs. I 
subsequently met him, and tried to converse with him, asking 
him to catch me a hedgehog, but I found he could not speak a 
word, and took no notice. The poor fellow is quite deaf. 
The soil at and about the village of Selborne seems very 
productive. The visitor should take a walk down the garden 
of the hotel from which a very pretty view can be obtained 
looking to the north. 
At and about this place the vegetation is very luxurious. 
It may be called a " Primaeval English forest." One can easily 
see from the plants that there is a constant struggle going 
on between nature and man; witness how" nature is trying 
to get rid of the outhouse near the hotel at Selborne. An 
