42 AUTUMN IN THE NEW FOREST. 



in height and are much branched. Further on we find the great 

 Dodder, turning its scarlet, thread-hke stems with the grasp of an 

 octopus round its reluctant host, the Common Gorse. 



A short pause at Lyndhurst : five minutes in the pretty 

 church to admire Sir Frederick Leighton's beautiful fresco, and 

 we are on our way again. 



What have we here ? On a bed of wet moss, a colony of 

 Sundew plants — both Drosera rotimdiflora and intermedia^ some 

 half-dozen of which have flowers fully expanded. This is a sight 

 we have never seen before, though we have noticed many 

 hundreds of plants during the past week. The buds have been 

 shining white — that was all, and though we have been keeping 

 plants in one room and feeding them carefully, they never repaid 

 us by unfolding their petals. We note the time — it is five minutes 

 past one — and pass on. 



Yellow is certainly the prevailing colour. Besides the St. 

 John's Worts and Hawkweeds, there are the bright yellow flowers 

 of the Golden Rod, the Henbane, and Agrimony. As a relict, we 

 are pleased to see the bright-blue Chicory, the Marsh Housewort, 

 the Lesser Skullcap, the Common Centaury, and the strangely 

 incomplete-looking flowers of the Bur Mangold. The commons 

 are purple over with Heath and Heather. The Dwarf Gorse, 

 ablaze with flower, is seen only here and there ; the Common 

 Gorse prevails, and its flowering time is past. We are nearing the 

 borders of the forest, but the flowers are brighter still. 



The Great Mullein proudly rears its head and makes a goodly 

 show, and, fairer still, the Black Mullein, with its beautiful purple 

 filaments, is growing fully as tall as its hoary cousin. Worthy of a 

 place in any garden is the beautiful double variety of the Common 

 Soapwort, which grows here freely enough ; and we must not 

 overlook the tiny, though interesting. Thyme-leaved Flaxseed. 



Further on yet is the Small Bugloss, the Viper's Bugloss, and 

 the Lesser Snapdragon ; whilst on the cliffs which guard the 

 seashore the Common Borage grows, to all appearance no alien, 

 but a real native. 



It is evening. The glow in the west tells of another day 

 departed ; the twinkling stars are heralding the night. If we 

 have not found the pride of New Forest — the Gladiolus — we 

 seem to have the comfortable assurance that the day has not been 

 misspent. 



