Otterbourne Farm bounds the churchyard on the west side, and below, on either side of a low bridge, stand two fine yew trees where boys in the old church days used to climb and devour the waxen berries with impunity. Meadows lie on each side the road, and on the left is a short lane, leading up to the old manor house, the Moat-house but it is no longer even a farm-house-the moat is choked with mud and reeds, and only grows fine forget-me-nots, and the curious panel picture of a battle, apparently between Turks and Austrians, has been removed. The fields beyond, bordering on Otterbourne Park, are the best for cowslips in the parish.
Returning into the road, whose proper name is Kiln Lane, the way leads between two fields, oddly enough called Courtiers, rising a little, and with a view of Otterbourne Hill, the east side of which, below the slope of Otterbourne Park, has been laid out in allotments for more than fifty years, at first by Mr. Yonge, though it has now been taken in hand by the Parish Council, and it makes a pleasant picture of stripes of various shades of green and brown with people working in them. The hedge sweeps round in a curve, leaving a space where stands the Pound, still sometimes used for straying cattle. The Stocks were once there, but never used in the memory of man.
The valley is of clay, strong yellow clay favourable to oaks, though too many have been cut down, whenever they came to a good size in the hedges; but in the grounds of Otterbourne House, where they have been undisturbed for at least eighty years, there are a number of very handsome well-grown trees; and near them is Dell Copse, dug out for the bricks for the "King's House," and the home of countless daffodils. Half way up the hill is a small spring, where the water rises so as to make little jets of sand. It flows down in a gutter to the green at the opening of Kiln Lane, around the Pound, and here spreads into a pool, called the Dip Hole, the resort of cows from the common, and long of village women, as the blue galt below the yellow clay never affords good water, but this has been remedied by water works.
At this spot Kiln Lane opens into the high-road, and there is a broad space of green at nearly the bottom of the hill, before the main body of the village begins. Every line in the place is a curve-hedges, roads, gardens and all, and this gives the view a peculiar grace, so that one of the old men used to say he knew not where to find a better or prettier view than looking down into the village from the hill, and on far beyond to Owslebury, Crowd Hill, and Longwood Warren, a lovely home view.
The church stands on the hillside just where the upward road to Cranbury begins to branch off. The churchyard is full of crosses, a large granite cross in memory of John Keble as rector in the midst, and there is a splendid Wellingtonia, or more properly a Sequoia, now about fifty years old, and overtopping the bell-turret. And the outside space on this side is scattered with horse chestnuts and elms.
Below are the schools, and the irregular curving street of houses, thatched, tiled, or slated, in gardens or close to the road. Here stands Otterbourne House, and, after two large fields, more cottages, and the vicarage, like the schools, with the fancy brick chimneys moulded at Hursley.
Not far beyond, the little stream that had crossed the meadows from the church is spanned by another bridge, belonging to the high-road from Winchester. Thence may be seen the source of the stream, in Pool Hole, said to be fed from Merdon well, and now forced to spread into a bed of watercresses.
And here begins Compton, Silkstede is in sight, and the round of the parishes is completed with King's Lane, turning to the west from the high road to Winchester.
CHAPTER XV-WORDS AND PHRASES
Before entirely quitting the parish, a few of the older words and forms of expression may be recorded, chiefly as remembered from the older generation, for "the schoolmaster" and the influx of new inhabitants have changed much that was characteristic of the genuine West Saxon. Nor, indeed, was there any very pronounced dialect, like a separate language. The speech is slow, and with a tendency to make o like aa, as Titus Oates does in Peveril of the Peak . An Otterbourne man going into Devonshire was told, "My son, you speak French." No one ever showed the true Hampshire south-country speech and turn of expression so well as Lady Verney in her Lettice Lisle , and she has truly Hampshire characters too, such as could once easily be matched in these villages.
The words and phrases here set down are only what can be vouched for by those who have grown up to them
WORDS
Caddle, untidy condition.
"In he comes when I'm all of a caddle."
To stabble, to walk about aimlessly, or in the wet.
"Now, Miss, don't you come stabbling in and out when I am scouring."
Or,
"I can't come stabbling down that there dirty lane, or I should be all of a muck."
Want, mole.
Chiselbob, woodlouse; also called a cud-worm, and, rolled in a pill, put down the throat of a cow to promote the restoration of her cud, which she was supposed to have lost.
Gowk, cuckoo.
Fuzz-Buzz, traveller's joy.
Palmer, caterpillar.
Dish-washer, water-wagtail.
Chink, chaffinch.
Long-tailed caper, long-tailed tit.
Yaffil, green woodpecker.
"The yaffil laughed loud."-See Peacock at Home.
Smellfox, anemone.
Dead men's fingers, orchis.
Granny's night-cap, water avens.
Jacob's ladder, Solomon's seal.
Lady's slipper, Prunella vulgaris.
Poppy, foxglove.
To routle, to rummage (like a pig in straw).
To terrify, to worry or disturb.
"Poor old man, the children did terrify him so, he is gone into the Union."
Wind-list, white streak of faint cloud across a blue sky, showing the direction of the wind.
Shuffler, man employed about a farmyard.
Randy go, uproar.
"I could not sleep for that there randy go they was making."
Pook, a haycock.
All of a pummy, all of a moulter, because it was so very brow, describing the condition of a tree, which shattered as it fell because it was brow, i.e. brittle.
Leer, empty, generally said of hunger.-See German.
Hulls, chaff. The chaff of oats; used to be in favour for stuffing mattresses.
Heft, Weight.
To huck, to push or pull out. Scotch (howk).
Stook, the foundation of a bee hive.
Pe-art, bright, lively, the original word bearht for both bright and pert.