ise early； to read Latin authors；thanks to Hebe； still unread。 I used to light my fire and make tea for myself； till one rapturous morning I discovered that Hebe was fond of rising early too； and that she would like to light my fire and make my tea。 After a time she began to sweeten it for me。 And then she would sit on my knee； and we would translate Catullus together；into English kisses； for she was curiously interested in the learned tongue。
How lovely she used to look with the morning sun turning her hair to golden mist； and dancing in the blue deeps of her eyes； and once when by chance she had forgotten to fasten her gown； I caught glimpses of a bosom that was like two happy handfuls of wonderful white cherries 。 。 。
She wore a marvellous little printed gown。 And here I may say that I have never to this day understood objections which were afterwards raised against my early attachment to print。 The only legitimate attachment to print stuff； I was told； was to print stuff in the form of blouse； tennis； or boating costume。 Yet； thought I； I would rather smuggle one of those little print gowns into my berth than all the silks a sea…faring friend of mine takes the trouble to smuggle from far Cathay。 However； every one to his taste； for me；
No silken madam； by your leave； Though wondrous； wondrous she be； Can lure this heartupon my sleeve From little pink…print Hebe。
For I found beneath that pretty print such a heart as seldom beats beneath your satin； warm and wild as a bird's。 I used to put my ear to it sometimes to listen if it beat right。 Ah； reader； it was like putting your ear to the gate of heaven。
And once I made a song for her； which ran like this：
There grew twin apples high on a bough Within an orchard fair； The tree was all of gold； I vow； And the apples of silver were。
And whoso kisseth those apples high； Who kisseth once is a king； Who kisseth twice shall never die； Who kisseth thriceoh； were it I！ May ask for anything。
Hebe blushed； and for answer whispered something too sweet to tell。
〃Dear little head sunning over with curls；〃 were I to meet you now； what would happen？ Ah！ to meet you now were too painfully to measure the remnant of my youth。
CHAPTER X
AGAIN ON FOOTTHE GIRLS THAT NEVER CAN BE MINE
Next morning I was afoot early； bent on my quest in right good earnest； for I had a remorseful feeling that I had not been sufficiently diligent the day before； had spent too much time in dreaming and moralising； in which opinion I am afraid the reader will agree。
So I was up and out of the town while as yet most of the inhabitants were in the throes of getting up。 Somewhere too SHE； the Golden One； the White Woman； was drowsily tossing the night…clothes from her limbs and rubbing her sleepy eyes。 William Morris's lovely song came into my mind；
‘And midst them all； perchance； my love Is waking； and doth gently move And stretch her soft arms out to me； Forgetting thousand leagues of sea。〃
Perhaps she was in the very town I was leaving behind。 Perhaps we had slept within a few houses of each other。 Who could tell？
Looking back at the old town； with its one steep street climbing the white face of the chalk hill； I remembered what wonderful exotic women Thomas Hardy had found eating their hearts out behind the windows of dull country high streets； through which hung waving no banners of romance； outwardly as unpromising of adventure as the windows of the town I had left。 And then turning my steps across a wide common； which ran with gorse and whortleberry bushes away on every side to distant hilly horizons； swarthy with pines； and dotted here and there with stone granges and white villages； I thought of all the women within that circle； any one of whom might prove the woman I sought；from milkmaids crossing the meadows； their strong shoulders straining with the weight of heavy pails； to fine ladies dying of ennui in their country…houses； pretty farmers' daughters surreptitiously reading novels； and longing for London and 〃life；〃 passionate young farmers' wives already weary of their doltish lords； bright… eyed bar…maids buried alive in country inns； and wondering 〃whatever possessed them〃 to leave Manchester；for bar…maids seem always to come from Manchester；all longing modestly； said I； to set eyes on a man like me； a man of romance； a man of feeling； a man； if you like； to run away with。
My heart flooded over with tender pity for these poor sweet womenthough perhaps chiefly for my own sad lot in not encountering them；and I conceived a great comprehensive love…poem to be entitled 〃The Girls that never can be Mine。〃 Perhaps before the end of our tramp together； I shall have a few verses of it to submit to the elegant taste of the reader； but at present I have not advanced beyond the title。
CHAPTER XI
AN OLD MAN OF THE HILLS； AND THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY
While occupying myself with these no doubt wanton reflections on the unfair division of opportunities in human life； I was leisurely crossing the common； and presently I came up with a pedestrian who； though I had little suspected it as I caught sight of him ahead； was destined by a kind providence to make more entertaining talk for me in half an hour than most people provide in a lifetime。
He was an oldish man； turned sixty； one would say； and belonging； to judge from his dress and general appearance； to what one might call the upper labouring class。 He wore a decent square felt hat； a shabby respectable overcoat； a workman's knitted waistcoat； and workman's corduroys； and he carried an umbrella。 His upper part might have belonged to a small well…to…do tradesman； while his lower bore marks of recent bricklaying。 Without its being remarkable； he had what one calls a good face； somewhat aquiline in character； with a refined forehead and nose。
His cheeks were shaved； and his whitening beard and moustache were worn somewhat after the fashion of Charles Dickens。 This gave a slight touch of severity to a face that was full of quiet strength。
Passing the time of day to each other； we were soon in conversation； I asking him this and that question about the neighbouring country…side； of which I gathered he was an old inhabitant。
〃Yes；〃 he said presently； 〃I was the first to put stick or stone on Whortleberry Common yonder。 Fifteen years ago I built my own wood cottage there； and now I'm rebuilding it of good Surrey stone。〃
〃Do you mean that you are building it yourself； with your own hands； no one to help you？〃 I asked。
〃Not so much as to carry a pail of water；〃 he replied。 〃I'm my own contractor； my own carpenter； and my own bricklayer； and I shall be sixty…seven come Michaelmas；〃 he added； by no means irrelevantly。
There was pride in his voice；pardonable pride； I thought； for who of us would not be proud to be able to build his own house from floor to chimney？
〃Sixty…seven；a man can see and do a good deal in that time；〃 I said； not flattering myself on the originality of the remark； but desiring to set him talking。 In the country； as elsewhere； we must forego profundity if we wish to be understood。
〃Yes； sir；〃 he said； 〃I have been about a good deal in my time。 I have seen pretty well all of the world there is to see； and sailed as far as ship could take me。〃
〃Indeed； you have been a sailor too？〃
〃Twenty…two thousand miles of sea；〃 he continued； without directly answering my remark。 〃Yes； Vancouver's about as far as any vessel need want to go； and then I have caught seals off the coast of Labrador； and walked my way through the raspberry plains at the back of the White Mountains。〃
〃Vancouver；〃 〃Labrador；〃 〃The White Mountains；〃 the very names； thus casually mentioned on a Surrey heath； seemed full of the sounding sea。 Like talismans they whisked one away to strange lands； across vast distances of space imagination refused to span。 Strange to think that the shabby little man at my side had them all fast locked； pictures upon pictures； in his brain； and as we were talking was back again in goodness knows what remote latitude。
I kept looking at him and saying； 〃Twenty…two thousand miles of sea！ sixty…seven！ and builds his own cottage！〃
In addition to all this he had found time to be twenty…one years a policeman； and to beget and rear successfully twelve children。 He was now； I gathered； living partly on his pension； and spoke of this daughter married； this daughter in service here； and that daughter in service there； one son settled in London and another in the States； with something of a patriarchal pride； with the independent air too of a man who could honestly say to himself that； with few advantages from fortune； having had； so to say； to work his passage； every foot and hour of it； across those twenty…two thousand miles and those sixty…seven years； he had made a thoroughly creditable job of his life。
As we walked along I caught glimpses in his vivid and ever…varying talk of the qualities that had made his success possible。 They are always the same qualities！
A little pile of half…hewn stones； the remains of a ruined wall； scattered by the roadside caught his eye。
〃I've seen the time when I wouldn't have left them stones lying out there；〃 he said； and presently； 〃Why； God bless you； I've made my own boots before to…day。 Give me the tops and I'll soon rig up a pair still。〃
And with all his success； and his evident satisfaction with his lot； the man was neither a prig nor a teetotaller。 He had probably seen too much of the world to be either。 Yet he had； he said； been too busy all his life to spend much time in public… houses； as we drank a pint of ale together in the inn which stood at the end of the common。
〃No； it's all well enough in its way； but it swallows time；〃 he remarked。 〃You see； my wife and I have our own pin at home； and when I'm a bit tired； I just draw a glass for myself； and smoke a pipe； and there's no time wasted coming and going； and drinking first with this and then with the other。〃
A little way past the inn we came upon a notice…board whereon the lord of the manor warned all wayfarers against trespassing on the common by makin