By a slight detour to the
right as the ground slopes toward that extension of Ballard Down
called Handfast Point, fearsome peeps may be had of the waves raging
round Old Harry's daughter and the submerged ruins of her parents.
Care must be taken here in misty weather, the cliffs are sheer, and
unexpected gaps occur where nothing could save the unwary explorer in
the event of an unlucky slip. Little is gained by following the cliff
top all the way to the extreme edge of the Point, and a return may be
made from hereabouts or a short cut made to the path leading to
Studland.
[Illustration: THE BALLARD CLIFFS.]
Studland was until quite lately one of the most unspoilt of English
villages. An unfortunate outbreak of red brick has slightly detracted
from its former quiet beauty, but it is still a charming little place
and claims as heretofore to be the "prettiest village in England," a
claim as impossible of acceptance as some other of the challenges made
by seaside towns. But it is unfair to class Studland with the usual
run of such resorts; perhaps its best claims upon us are negative
ones.
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