I now descend a hill between high grassy banks, and reach Headbourne Worthy--the stately designation only signifying a village. The church has a somewhat modern appearance outside, but, according to some, has Saxon portions. At the west end, we find a small Norman arch leading into the vestry, where there is a bas-relief, almost obliterated, of the Crucifixion and two Marys, larger than life. It is supposed that these figures were originally on the outer wall of the church, and that the room in which they now are, in which an upper floor and piscina are traceable, was a chapel built round them. There is in the church a handsome piscina and some sedilia. But the chief pride of the little sanctuary is a brass, said to be in a certain sense unique. It dates from 1434, and is in memory of a boy who died when one of the scholars at “New College” in Winchester. He stands here, with closely-cut hair and a gown fastened down the front, giving a good idea of the appearance of the scholars of that day. A scroll proceeds out of his mouth, with the words, “Misericordiam Dm̄ inetm̄ cantabo,” which is supposed to mean that he will sing the school chants eternally. I returned the keys to a small house, a few yards off, in the garden of which I observed some of the finest “everlastings” I had seen in this country. Beside it ran a grass-carpeted lane, down which a pedestrian wishing to return to Winchester in a mile, and able to face an easy fence, might turn to the right across a field and walk beside a bank gay with knopweed, fleabane, and St. John’s wort, until he reached the Nuns’ Walk. I, however, continued up the hill, and, passing a red-brick house, with four splendid lignums in front of it, came to King’s Worthy--once Crown property as the name denotes. There is nothing remarkable about the church, except a Norman arch at the west entrance. The tombstones outside are sadly gay with wreaths and floral crosses. Short-lived they are, for the fences not being perfect cows stray in, and, unable to read of the virtues of the deceased, munch up and trample on the offerings in a most unsentimental manner. The body of the boy Parker, of whose murder I have spoken, having been refused, as I was told, burial at Headbourne, was interred here on the south-west side, and a headstone raised to his memory by subscription.