he builders of Stonehenge
must have transported the enormous monoliths for many miles. The place
lies about eight miles north of Salisbury. We went over a rather lonely
and uninteresting road by the way of Amesbury, which is two miles from
Stonehenge. We returned by a more picturesque route, following the River
Avon to Salisbury and passing through Millston, a quaint little village
where Joseph Addison was born in 1672.

A few miles south of Salisbury we entered New Forest, an ancient royal
hunting domain covering nearly three hundred square miles and containing
much of the most pleasing woodland scenery in England. This is extremely
diversified but always beautiful. Glades and reaches of gentle park and
meadow and open, heathlike stretches contrast wonderfully with the dark
masses of huge oaks and beeches, under some of which daylight never
penetrates. We stopped for the night at Lyndhurst, directly in the
center of the forest and sometimes called the capital of New Forest. It
looks strangely new for an English town, and the large church, built of
red brick and white stone, shows its recent origin. In this church is
a remarkable altar fresco which was executed by the late Lord Leighton.
The fine roads and splendid scenery might occupy at least a day if time
permitted; but if, like us, one must hasten onward, a run over the main
roads of New Forest will give opportunity to see much of its sylvan
beauty.

[Illustration: A GLADE IN NEW FOREST.]

Our route next day through the narrow byways of Dorsetshire was a
meandering one. From Lyndhurst we passed through Christchurch, Blandford
and Dorchester and came for the night to Yeovil. We passed through no
place of especial note, but no day of our tour afforded us a better idea
of the more retired rural sections of England. By the roadside
everywhere were the thatched roof cottages with their flower gardens,
and here and there was an ancient village which to all appearances might
have been standing quite the same when the Conqueror landed in Britain.
Oftentimes the byways were wide enough for only one vehicle, but were
slightly broadened in places to afford opportunity for passing. Many of
the crossings lacked the familiar sign-boards, and the winding byways,
with nothing but the map for a guide, were often confusing, and sharp
turns between high hedges made careful driving necessary. At times we
passed between avenues of tall trees and again unexpectedly dropped into
some q