Cottage Homes-A Common-Rural Playgrounds-Beautiful Smoke -In Search of the Picturesque A Sketch-All things come to him who waits'-A Mysterious Stranger-A Chat with a Travelling Photographer-Chance Gossips by the Way-Hop Fields-Eden Bridge-Horses' Instinct-A New Railway-A Castle in a Hollow-Moats and their Water Supply.

LEAVING Godstone, we passed through a pretty rolling country. On our way, we came across, for the first time this journey, some old weather-browned thatched cottages-real rustic thatched cottages, no sham make-beliefs; homely abodes these of the tillers of the soil. Somehow, thatched buildings always suggest to me pleasant thoughts of rural contentment. Doubtless such old places are vastly more picturesque than desirable as dwellings; more beloved of artists than by social economists. Possibly a modern brick-built cottage, with a chilly looking slate roof thereon, is infinitely to be preferred as a living place; yet withal it does not suggest either the comfort or cosiness of the humble thatched abode. A pity it is that so many things beautiful to look

upon are not so beautiful in practice. A worthless dilapidated old ruin will make a far better picture than the most perfect cathedral or stately hall, however fine these may be in themselves.

I verily believe one of the things that makes Devonshire scenery so charming is its numberless, ever-occurring thatched cottages, so eye-pleasing all. It is the sum of little things that goes to make up the beauty of a scene; when these are absent, scenery (as generally in America) may be grand, but not homelike or lovable. How artists delight to represent these old cottages! What painter or lover of the picturesque ever desires to portray a modern model labourer's dwelling, or, it may be, dwellings erected for economy, all in a row-a most depressing sight-when the country around is so fair?

It may be, to a certain extent, a selfish wish to desire that our peasant poor should reside in picturesque dwellings, which appear only delightful to those who have not to inhabit them. A little reality often takes a good deal of the glamour from off the picturesque. An old castle or moated manor-house considered as a building is very romantic doubtless, but I question whether, were I compelled to make such my home, I should not prefer something more up to the ideas of modern times. We give high prices for pictures of ragged beggars: I wonder, do we admire the real thing? Rather is it not the artist's ideal we prize? Thus we reasoned with ourselves, as we presently came across some wofully commonplace structures of bricks and mortar, endeavouring to the best of our ability to argue ourselves out of

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our inveterate dislike for such ugly things, for it was our aim to try and look on the bright side of life, and, as we could not alter existing facts, to make the best of them. It must be confessed that the country labourer lives a hard life, working early and late, with few comforts and little ease; and who would not wish him all and every improvement to his lot, even though the landscape may suffer by his benefit? But is it of necessity, I wonder, that progress should always mean a sacrifice of beauty? If so, we must accept the inevitable with as good a grace as may be. I, for one-lover of the beautiful though I am -can forgive the cotter's home being ugly if he is better off in his ugly cottage (even the very adjective seems out of place with the noun, so accustomed are we to associate a cottage with the picturesque), but I can never forgive nor excuse a rich man for spoiling scenery; for, given the necessary money, beautiful buildings can be as readily raised as costly eye

sores.

Presently we reached a bit of wild common, wind-swept and sunny: here the landscape opened out, affording us a sense of space and freedom. These rough grassy expanses, that so specially abound in this portion of England-gay with golden gorse or flowering broom, purple with heather now and again, the home of waving bracken, with their stunted thorns, countless plants, flowers, and weeds (all beautiful, to even the despised weeds), forming as they do a wild harmony of greys and golds, of reds and russet greens-contrast delightfully with the enclosed cultivated fields around, and hedge-bound

lanes. A bit of primeval England in the midst of highly cultivated ground-the very antithesis of an oasis in a desert! Bits of wayward Nature, across which broad masses of shade and sunshine come and go, for the skyscape above is wide and unbroken; and how unrestrained the bracing breezes sweep over them, fresh and invigorating, wandering whither they will at their own sweet pleasure. What perfect playgrounds they make for the ruddycheeked, ragged, sunburnt children, who laugh and romp about upon them to their hearts' content! Happy careless creatures, how different your lot to the little ragamuffins of our large cities, who only have the thronged streets, or a narrow dirty court, in which to make merry! Would that every hamlet possessed such a miniature 'health resort.' Even to the passing wayfarer

A common overgrown with fern, and rough

With prickly gorse, that, shapeless and deformed,
And dangerous to the touch, has yet its bloom,
And decks itself with ornaments of gold,

Yields no unpleasant ramble.

What pictures these rough commons afford to the eye, love-trained to perceive the beauties in which they abound, unheeded wayside commons though they be! Not all the laboured wares that grace and sometimes disgrace the Academy walls ever revealed such a boundless store of loveliness. Why will not painters give us weeds as well as flowers, nettles as well as daisies? Do they imagine. that they know better than Nature how the world should be? Most British weeds are full of character: