rcer's Hall. The
"gothic" tower at Peveril Point at one time graced the southern
approach to London Bridge as a Wellington memorial. The clock at the
Town Hall is said to be from a "scrapped" city church and the gilt
vane on the turret of Purbeck House on the other side of the way is
from Billingsgate. Not the least surprising of these relics are the
lamp-and-corner-posts bearing the names of familiar London parishes.

When Swanage was Danish Swanic (it was called Swanwick in the early
nineteenth century) it witnessed the defeat of its colonizers in a sea
fight with Alfred. The irresponsible partners commemorated this by
erecting a stone column surmounted by four _cannon balls_. A queer way
of perpetuating a pre-conquest naval victory, but possibly the
projectiles were less in the way here than at Millbank. Not far away,
attached to the wall of the Moslem Institute, is a coloured geological
map of the district, another effort at the higher education of "the
man on the beach." It is certainly a good idea, and may lead many to a
further study of a fascinating science, for nowhere may the practical
study of scenery be made to greater advantage than near Swanage.

Perhaps the most graceful curve of coast line in Dorset is Swanage
Bay, and to see it at its best one should stroll across the rising
ground of Peveril Point. To the right are the dark cliffs of Purbeck
marble that encircle Durlston Bay; to the left across the half-moon
stretch of water is the white chalk of Ballard Point guarded by "Old
Harry's daughter," the column of detached chalk in front. At one time
this was one of a family, but "Old Harry" and his "wife" have sunk
beneath the waves and the sole remaining member of the family may
disappear during the next great storm. Beyond, indistinct and remote
during fine weather but startlingly near when the glass is falling,
are the cliffs of Alum Bay in the Isle of Wight, and the guardian
"Needles."

The picturesque High Street should be followed past the Town Hall with
its alien Carolean front, and the long wall of Purbeck House that is
said to be made up from the "sweepings" of the Albert Memorial at
Kensington. Down a lane at the side of the civic building is the old
"Lock Up," with an inscription as quaint as it is direct, for it tells
us that it was erected "for the prevention of Wickedness and Vice by
the Friends of Religion and Good Order." Farther up High Street is a
cottage, creeper-clad and picturesque