Much of Horley belongs to Christ's Hospital, which is said to be under obligation to educate two children of poor widows, in return for the great tithes long since bequeathed to it, and is additionally accused of having consistently betrayed that trust. [Illustration: THE "SIX BELLS," HORLEY.] The parish church, chiefly of the Early English and Decorated periods of Gothic architecture, contains some brasses and a poor old stone effigy of a bygone lord of the manor, broken-nosed and chipped, but not without its interest. The double-headed eagle on his shield is still prominent, and the crowded detail of his mailed armour and the lacings of his surcoat are as distinct as when sculptured six centuries ago. He wears the little misericorde, or dagger, at his belt, the "merciful" instrument with which gentle knights finished off their wounded enemies in the chivalric days of old. Many years ago some person unknown stole the old churchwardens' account-book, dating from the sixteenth century. After many wanderings in the land, it was at length purchased at a second-hand bookseller's and presented to the British Museum, in which mausoleum of literature, in the Department of Manuscripts, it is now to be found. It contains a curious item, showing that even in the rigid times that produced the great Puritan upheaval, congregations were not unapt for irreverence. Thus in 1632 "John Ansty is chosen by the consent of y{e} minister and parishioners to see y{t} y{e} younge men and boyes behave themselves decently in y{e} church in time of divine service and sermon, and he is to have for his paines ij{s.}" The nearest neighbour to the church is the almost equally ancient "Six Bells" inn, which took its title from the ring of bells in the church tower. Since 1839, however, when two bells were added, there have been eight in the belfry. The stranger, foregathering with the rustics at the "Six Bells," and missing the old houses that once stood near the church and have been replaced by new, very quickly has his regrets for them cut short by those matter-of-fact villagers, who declare that "ye wooden tark so ef ye had to live in un." A typical rustic had "comic brown-titus" acquired in one of those damp old cottages, and has "felt funny" ever since. One with difficulty resisted the suggestion that, if he could be as funny as he felt, he should set up for a humorist, and oust some of the dull dogs who pose as jesters. Opposite Horley church is Gatwick Park, since 1892 converted into a racecourse, with a railway station of its own. Less than a mile below it, at Povey Cross, the Sutton and Reigate route to Brighton joins the main road. XVIII