"The 'Flying Bull,'" said the countryman. "Oh, aye, it _is_ a curious sign, sure-ly. How did it 'riginate? Well, they _do_ say as how, years ago, before _my_ time, they useter turn cattle out to graze in them meadows down there;" and he pointed down the lane. "There wur a lot o' flies in those meadows in summer at that time, and so there is now, for the matter o' that. Howsomedever, when they turned them there cattle into these here meadows, the flies made 'em smart and set 'em racing about half mad. They _wur_ flying bulls; but 'tis _my_ belief it useter be the 'Fly _and_ Bull' public-house.... Thankee, sir; yer health, I'm sure!" [Illustration: THE "FLYING BULL" INN.] The road now rises gradually to a considerable height, being carried along the ridge of Rake Down, an elevated site now covered with large and pretentious country residences, but less than fifty years ago a wide tract of uncultivated land that grew nothing but gorse and ling, grass and heather, and bore no houses. The view hence is peculiarly beautiful over the wooded Sussex Weald, towards Midhurst, whose name, even now, describes its situation amid woods. The hollow below is Harting Coombe, and the neighbouring villages of Harting and Rogate recall the time when wild deer roamed the oak woods and the jealously-guarded Chases of Waltham and Woolmer. [Illustration: THE "FLYING BULL" SIGN.] [Sidenote: _THE 'JOLLY DROVERS'_] Just beyond the long line of modern houses stands another roadside inn, the "Jolly Drovers," planted 'mid capacious barns and roomy outhouses, at the angle of another country lane, leading to Rogate. The "Jolly Drovers" looks an old house, but it was built so recently as the '20's, by a frugal drover named Knowles, who saw a profitable investment for his savings in building a "public" at what was then a lonely spot called Shrubb's Corner. [Illustration: THE "JOLLY DROVERS."]