Presently we come into Putney, and to the tramway terminus hard by the bridge and under the shadow of the church-tower, whose great sundial warns all and sundry that “Time and Tide Wait for no Man.” Is it a result of laying to heart this maxim, truism, self-evident proposition, or whatever else you choose to call it, that the tramway-cars and the motor-omnibuses hustle so impatiently round the corners of the bridge? Those two church-towers, that stand so prominently here on either side of the river and seem to bear one another close company, although divided, as a matter of fact by a quarter of a mile, with the broad river running between, belong to the churches of Putney and Fulham, both now to be regarded as parts of London. Putney Church, standing with its churchyard actually on the river bank, was almost wholly rebuilt about 1856, the exterior disclosing walls built of what was once white brick, reduced now to a subdued neutral tint. The old tower is left, and some few small and late and much-battered brasses, now preserved on the walls of a little north-eastern chancel chapel, which is a survival from an earlier building, and has a fine, though small, vaulted ceiling. The usual absurd legends that seek to explain place-names to the ignorant and the credulous are, of course, not lacking here. The names of Putney and Fulham, and their situation directly opposite one another, on the Surrey and the Middlesex sides of the river, both so prominently marked by their church-towers, seem to the popular mind to need some story. The writer on places becomes tired in course of time at meeting those familiar rival “sisters” of legend, who are always found, in these strictly unveracious tales, to have been the competitive builders of the two churches occasionally found in one churchyard, of the twin towers possessed by some few parish churches, and indeed of most buildings which, for no very immediately apparent reason, have been duplicated within sight of one another. [Illustration: THE OLD TOLL-HOUSE, BARNES COMMON.]