ut he bowled
out three and caught one and Sussex won the money.

Above Duncton rises Duncton Down, which is eight hundred and
thirty-seven feet high, one of our mountains. But we are not to climb it
just now, having business in the weald some four miles away to the east,
past Barlavington and Sutton, at Bignor.

[Sidenote: THE OLDEST GROCER'S SHOP]

Admirers of yew trees should make a point of visiting Bignor churchyard.
The village has also what is probably the quaintest grocer's shop in
England; certainly the completest contrast that imagination could devise
to the modern grocer's shop of the town, plate-glassed, illumined and
stored to repletion. It is close to the yew-shadowed church, and is
gained by a flight of steps. I should not have noticed it as a shop at
all, but rather as a very curious survival of a kindly and attractive
form of architecture, had not a boy, when asked the way to the Roman
pavement, which is Bignor's glory, mentioned "the grocer's" as one of
the landmarks. One's connotation of "grocer" excluding diamond panes,
oak timbers, difficult steps, and reverend antiquity, I was like to lose
the way in earnest, had not a customer emerged opportunely from the
crazy doorway with a basket of goods. It was natural for the boy, whose
pennies had gone in oranges and sweets, to lay the emphasis on the
grocery; but the house externally is the only one of its kind within
miles.

[Sidenote: A ROMAN VILLA]

In some respects there is no more interesting spot in Sussex than the
mangold field on Mr. Tupper's farm that contains the Roman pavements.
Approaching this scene of alien treasure one observes nothing but the
mangolds; here and there a rough shed as if for cattle; and Mr. Tupper,
the grandson of the discoverer of the mosaics, at work with his hoe.
This he lays on one side on the arrival of a visitor, taking in his hand
instead a large key. So far, we are in Sussex pure and simple; mangolds
all around, cattle sheds in front, a Sussex farmer for a companion, the
sky of Sussex over all, and the twentieth century in her nonage. Mr.
Tupper turns the key, throws open the creaking door--and nearly two
thousand years roll away. We are no longer in Sussex but in the province
of the Regni; no longer at Bignor but Ad Decimum, or ten miles from
Regnum (or Chichester) on Stane Street, the direct road to Londinum, in
the residence of a Roman Colonial governor of immense wealth, probably
supreme in command of the pro