Page:The Zoologist, 3rd series, vol 2 (1878).djvu/169

Rh denizen of the modern Babylon who finds solace and mental refreshment in occasional pedestrian outings, in putting into so graphic and agreeable a shape the results of his own wanderings in the two southern counties of Britain which possess not merely the charms of "field paths and green lanes," in well nigh endless variety, but in addition archaeological and ecclesiastical objects as infinite in their interest. True it is, much of the matter to be found in this volume is to be consulted in Murray's Handbooks to Surrey and Sussex, but the special charm of Mr. Jennings' notes lies in the fact that as he "invariably followed a green lane or a fieldpath, wherever one could be found," he has endeavoured to furnish directions enabling others to follow it also; "for," as he justly adds, "very seldom is it marked upon the maps."

Like Walter White, in his analogous 'Walks,' our author appears to have found additional pleasure in making friends with the country people and tramps with whom he came in contact; his chat with such wayfarers imparts much liveliness to his pages, and he even urges that advantage attends the unaccompanied tourist, on the ground that "by proper management you may get the country folks whom you meet to talk to you, and from them pick up many a quaint saying or odd scrap of information." On this point opinions may differ, but at least in Mr. Jennings' case the result has been to impart to the reader many curious provincial colloquialisms.

Of matter more immediately calculated to claim the attention of 'The Zoologist' there is not much to notice. Observant of his surroundings as Mr. Jennings undoubtedly is, and having at all times a keen eye for Nature's beauties as exemplified in wild scenery, or for man's handiwork as developed in quaint buildings, he nevertheless records but few facts connected with Natural History. At Etchingham (p. 45) an old man, telling the author of the origin of a rookery in that village, thus delivered himself:—

"They Rooks as you see on bärson's pläce only coom a few year agoo. About fi' year back, ten or a dozen coom, and the next year about värty, and now you see as there be a hundreds of 'em. Queer birds, they be—sometimes coom all of a sudden, and then go away again same way."

Again (p. 97): —

"In the one street of Bramber I noticed a signboard pointing 'To the Museum.' What sort of a Museum could it be? It turned out to be a