Owing to the War one must save money and spend as little as possible on fares when rambling for pleasure. The following itinerary will be found quite an inexpensive one, though offering plenty of interest. Take the train to ——. Leave the station by the exit on the south side, and turn to the right under the railway bridge, taking the path by the stream till you come to a bridge which crosses it. Do not cross the stream, however, but turn sharply to the right (opposite a rather pretentious-looking house) for two hundred yards or so, when you will come to a park. A little before entering the park you will see, lying not far from the road on the left, a remarkable old monastery church, much restored. This contains some fine old painted glass, some tombs and monumental inscriptions which are worth a visit if time will allow. There is a right of way through the park up to the house, which belongs to the Earl of C——, but is not of great architectural interest. Bear to the right in front of the house, along a path which skirts the wall of the private grounds. At the end of the wall a gateway leads into the high road, and a walk of under two miles will bring you to the, at one time, pretty village of K——, which has, however, grown rapidly into a thriving town. Before reaching the parish church there is a hostelry on the right-hand side of the road where an excellent tea may be obtained (so far as the food regulations will allow). On leaving the inn, turn through a gateway at the side of it, which gives on to a straight and rather uninteresting road, which has been considerably built upon and is more or less private, though a right of way has been preserved through it. A glimpse of a large mansion, chiefly of the 17th century, and now in the possession of the W——s, may be obtained through the trees on the right of the road. When you come to the main road (at the far end of this semi-private road) turn to the right, and just where the gibbet used to stand, so it is said, in the good old days, there is a sharp left-angled turn which leads to the village of E——. Keep straight on, however, for a mile or two (notice the fine old timbered houses on the right of the footpath opposite the old boundary-post), and then turn to the right by the church, rebuilt in the 17th century on the site of an older and finer one, whose spire was at one time a noted landmark. A walk through the churchyard to the church porch brings you to the brow of a hill. Descend this to the cross-roads at the bottom, but, instead of turning to either hand, keep to the narrow road in front till you come to a gateway on the left. This leads to a house which formerly belonged to the Knights Templars, but which passed into the hands of the L——s and is still in their possession. There is an interesting chapel in the grounds, containing the tombs of some of the former owners, whose deeds were more warlike, though probably less numerous, than those of the present occupants. From here an easy walk up the Strand will bring you to the starting point, Charing Cross Embankment Station, where you can take the train again; but if you are fit and between the ages of forty-one and fifty, you can continue the walk till you reach the nearest Recruiting Office.
A chance for one of our slim conscientious objectors. LINES ON RE-READING "BLEAK HOUSE."There was a time when, posing as a purist, I thought it fine to criticise and crab CHARLES DICKENS as a crude caricaturist, Who laid his colours on too thick and slab, Who was a sort of sentimental tourist And made life lurid when it should be drab; In short I branded as a brilliant dauber The man who gave us Pecksniff and Micawber. True, there are blots—like spots upon the sun— And genius, lavish of imagination, In sheer profusion always has outrun The bounds of strict artistic concentration; But when detraction's worst is said and done, How much remains for fervent admiration, How much that never palls or wounds or sickens (Unlike some moderns) in great generous DICKENS! And in Bleak House, the culminating story That marks the zenith of his swift career, All the great qualities that won him glory, As writer and reformer too, appear: Righteous resentment of abuses hoary, Of pomp and cant, self-centred, insincere; And burning sympathy that glows unchecked For those who sit in darkness and neglect. Who, if his heart be not of steel or stone, Can read unmoved of Charley or of Jo; Of dear Miss Flite, who, though her wits be flown, Has kept a soul as pure as driven snow; Of the fierce "man from Shropshire" overthrown By Law's delays; of Caddy's inky woe; Or of the alternating fits and fluster That harass the unhappy slavey, Guster? And there are scores of characters so vivid They make us friends or enemies for life: Hortense, half-tamed she-wolf, with envy livid; The patient Snagsby and his shrewish wife; The amorous Guppy, who poor Esther chivvied; Tempestuous Boythorn, revelling in strife; Skimpole, the honey-tongued artistic cadger; And that tremendous woman, Mrs. Badger. No wonder then that, when we seek awhile Relief and respite from War's strident chorus, Few books more swiftly charm us to a smile, Few books more truly hearten and restore us Than his, whose art was potent to beguile Thousands of weary souls who came before us— No wonder, when the Huns, who ban our fiction, Were fain to free him from their malediction.
People ought not to say these things about chemists.
But VON SCHUTZ's sotto-voce rendering of the "Hymn of Hate" is immense. |