126 THE SUSSEX COAST
' Don't prittle nor prattle, my pretty Pollee, Nor tell any tales by me,
And your cage shall be made of glittering gold, Though now it be made of tree.'
Now the King being in his chamber so high, And hearing the parrot, did say : ' What ails you, what ails you, my pretty Pollee, That you prattle so long ere 'tis day ?'
"Tis no laughing matter,' the parrot did say, "Tis no laughing matter,' says she ; 'For the cats had got into the window so high, And I was afeared they'd have me.'
"Well turned, well turned, my pretty Pollee, Well turned, well turned for me ; Your cage shall be made of the glittering gold, And the door of the best ivorie.' "
About two miles south-west of Lyminster is the once quiet little village of Rustington, close to the sea. There is a windmill by the shore ; once it was a lonely spot, now villas and bungalows are growing up, there is a large Metropolitan Asylums Home, and a motor road full of sharp little flints leads along the seaside to Littlehampton. This part of the coast is not romantic as to scenery, just low cliffs of clayey mud and a shingle shore with numerous wooden groins, these being designed to protect the land by preventing, or at least retarding, the eternal eastward drifting of the stones promoted by the currents of ocean. Rustington church is of some interest, the south arcade is transition Norman to Early English (c. 1170), with arches just pointed and pillars round and octagonal, with scallop or stiff foliage caps. About the same date is the tower with pilaster buttresses and windows, each of two