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A STROLL THROUGH A BEECH WOOD, OX 

 THE SOUTH DOWNS, SUSSEX. 



By MISS AGNES CATLOW. 



"Hear how the Nightingales, on every spray, 

 Hail, in mild notes, the sweet return of May ! 

 The gale that o'er yon waving almond blows, 

 The verdant bank with silver blossoms strows; 

 The smiling season decks each flowery glade, 

 Be ga}', too soon the flowers of spring will fade." 



SiK Wii-LiAM Jones. 



Nothing cau be more charming than a ramble amongst the woods in the 

 latter days of May, when the spring flowers are in perfection, the air sweet 

 and balmy, the birds busy and pouring forth their joyous song, and our own 

 feelings in unison with these sources of pure enjoyment. Those who are 

 botanically inclined will perhaps be my companions in imagination in one of 

 my oft-repeated rambles through the Beech Woods of the South Downs, where 

 sweet scenery, fine air, and many botanical treasures await us. We leave our 

 house about three miles south-west of Midhurst, which faces these Downs, 

 and riding through the pretty lanes, from which we have constant peeps of 

 the hills before us, for about a mile and a half southward, arrive at the small, 

 but beautifully-situated village of Tray ford: the church and small number of 

 houses of which it is composed, are within a few hundred feet of the hills, 

 and we have but to cross a field to be at once upon them. 



How lovely the Downs look, stretched out before us, running east and 

 west as far as the eye can reach; on the west joining the Hampshire range, 

 under one of the slopes of which, within fifteen miles of us, lies the cele- 

 brated village of Selbourne, so well known to all lovers of Natural History, 

 as the residence of Gilbert White; on the east inclining nearer the coast, 

 and ending in Beachy Head. 



This walk, through the field, is very pleasant, but wo are now on the 

 rising ground, and fairly on the Downs; we at once enter one of the numerous 

 Beech Woods, and we shall find that it shades a little stream, which has 

 its source higher up, and adds greatly to the picturesque beauty of the spot, 

 for it issues freely from the ground, and has worn itself a way through the 

 stones and chalk, by its constant and rapid motion, leaving high banks difficult 

 to descend. But look around, the ground is clothed with plants, whose beauty 

 and comparative rarity must now command our attention. 



The edges of the wood are white with Sweet Wood-rufF, [Asperula odorata,) 

 a lovely little plant when freshly gathered, and when drying gives out a very 

 agreeable odour, resembling that of the Sweet-scented Vernal Grass, (Aniho- 

 xanthum ocloratinn.) The genus dei'ives its name from Asper — rough, many 

 of the foreign species being clothed with hooked bristles. The leaves are about 

 eight in a whorl, placed at intervals on the slender stalk, which is not above 

 six inches high; the small white flowers form a loose bunch, and are funnel- 



VOL. II. Q 



