than it was a dozen years ago. Every epicure should be
interested in the numerous "fairy rings," sufficient evidence of the
abundance of mushrooms which will spring up in the night after a moist
day. One of the most comfortable traits of our chalk hills however is
the marvellous quickness with which the turf dries after rain. Those
who have experienced the discomfort of walking the fells of Cumberland
and Westmoreland, which at most seasons of the year resemble an
enormous wet sponge, often combined with the real danger of bog and
morass, will appreciate the better conditions met with in Sussex hill
rambling. Where the chalk is uncovered it becomes exceedingly slippery
after a shower, but there is rarely a necessity to walk thereon.

The pedestrian on the Downs should use caution after dusk; chalk pits
are not seen, under certain conditions, until the wayfarer is on the
verge. Holes in the turf are of frequent occurrence and may be the
cause of a twisted ankle, or worse, when far from help.

The "dene holes" are of human origin. Once thought to be primitive
dwelling places, they are now supposed to have been merely excavations
for the sake of the chalk or the flints contained therein, and possibly
adapted for the storage of grain. Of equal interest are the so-called
"dew ponds," of which a number are scattered here and there close to
the edge of the northern escarpment. Undoubtedly of prehistoric origin,
the art of making the pond has become traditional and some have been
built by shepherds still living. These pools of clear cool water high
up on the crest of a hill gain a mysterious air by their position, but
their existence is capable of a scientific explanation. Built in the
first place to be as nearly as possible non-conducting, with an
impervious "puddled" bottom, the pond is renewed every night to a
certain extent by the dew which trickles down each grass and reed stem
into the reservoir beneath, and to a much greater extent by the mists
which drift over the edge to descend in rain on the Weald. The pools
might well be called "cloud ponds."

[Illustration: WILLINGDON.]

The most lovely scenes, the best view points, are described in their
proper place. The question as to which is the finest section of the
Downs must be left to the individual explorer. To some natures the free
bare wind-swept expanse at the back of Brighton will appeal the most.
By others the secret woods which climb from hidden combe and dry gu