Sep^r 1. Paid Francis Heathfield for Brandy Boundwalking 00 04 00 1731. Paid Goody Rapley on account of ayring and cleansing her Daughter of the Small Pox 00 14 00 1739. Expenses carrying Sarah Rapley to Limpsfield 01 05 0-1/2 Paid for four Horses and a Side Saddle 00 13 00 Paid for a Warrant for Sarah Rapley 00 01 00 Paid for a Marriage Licence for D^o Rapley 01 08 00 Paid for her Wedding Ring 00 06 00 Paid Horsehire to Dorking for D^o Rapley 00 01 00 Paid Tho. Rapley's wife for nurseing Sarah Rapley's child this month 8 1740. Paid the Clark's Fee at Sarah Rapley's Marriage 00 02 06 Paid M^r Pearson for marrying Sarah Rapley and burying Jno. Lipscomb y^e blind man 00 11 00 1745. Expences having Henry Rapley to ye Sea when bitt by a Mad Dog (Paid to Richard Rapley) 00 12 06 How many village families could show so long a written history as that of the Rapleys, or so engaging a record? The entries of 1739 and 1740 are a perfect climax of hopes and fears, ending, it is impossible to doubt, in the enjoyment by Sarah Rapley of every conceivable happiness. But the joys hidden under the cold print of the last Rapley entry are only dimly to be imagined. Henry Rapley's return from the sea, cured of his dog-bite, must have brought out the whole village. Two miles south-west of Ockley, a short way off the Stone street, stands the lonely little chapel of Oakwood. It is one of the old forest chapels, and dates back to the thirteenth century, but was enlarged in the fifteenth, the happy result of an accident. Sir Edward de la Hale was hunting wild boar with his son in the forest hard by. They had wounded a boar, the boy was thrown from his horse, and the boar charged down. His father spurred forward, too late to save him, when suddenly an arrow whizzed through the trees and the boar fell dead. In his joy, the father vowed on the spot an offering to the service of God, and Oakwood chapel was restored and endowed. The little building lies apart, sequestered in cornfields and deep woods, the quietest treasure of sudden discovery for the stranger walking idly by country lanes.