The fringed buckbean (_villarsia_) is said to be an inhabitant of these brooks. I have not seen it there; but it may be found, sparsely, in the river Ouse, a short distance above Lewes, where its round leaves float on the quiet backwaters like those of a large frog-bit or a small water-lily, though the botanists tell us it is a gentian. I remember that on the first occasion when I saw it there, on a late summer day, there was only a single blossom left, and as that was on a deep pool, several yards from the bank, there was no choice but to swim for it. The great yellow cress (_nasturtium amphibium_), a glorified cousin of the familiar water-cress, is also native on the Ouse above Lewes, less frequently below. More spacious than the Lewes levels, but drearier, and on the whole less interesting, are those of Pevensey, which cover a wide tract to the east of Hailsham, formerly an inlet of the sea, where the sites of the few homesteads that rise above the flat meadows, such as Chilley and Horse-eye, were once islands in the bay. Walking north from Pevensey, by a road which traverses this inhospitable flat, one sees the walls of Hurstmonceux Castle in front, on what was originally the coast-line; on either side of the highway is a maze of ditches and dikes, among which rare flowers are to be found, notably the broad-leaved pepperwort, the largest and most remarkable of its family, and the great spearwort, said to be locally plentiful near Hurstmonceux. The bladderwort, reputed common on these marshes, seems to have become much scarcer than it was twenty years back. For other flowers, other fenny tracts may be sought; Henfield Common, for instance, has the bog-bean, the marsh St. John's-wort, and still better, the marsh-cinquefoil. But of all Sussex water-meadows with which I am acquainted the richest are the Amberley Wild Brooks, which lie below Pulborough, adjacent to the tidal stream of the Arun, a piece of partially drained bog-land which in a wet winter season is apt to be flooded anew, and to revert to its primitive state of swamp. It is a glorious place to wander over, on a sunny August afternoon, with the great escarpment of the Downs, and the ever-prominent Chanctonbury Ring, close in view to the south; and in a long summer day the expedition can be combined with a visit to Arundel Park, only three miles distant, the best of parks, as being the least parklike and most natural, and having a goodly store of the wildflowers that are dwellers upon chalk hills.