CHAPTER II. 



FERNS. 



The feathery Fern ! the feathery Fern ! 



It groweth wide, and it groweth free, 

 By the rippling brook, and the wimpling burn, 



And the tall and stately forest tree ; 

 Where the merle and the mavis sweetly sing, 



And the blue jay makes the woods to ring, 

 And the pheasant flies, on whirling wing, 



Beneath a verdurous canopy." Anne Pratt. 



OON after our first essay in the study of Ferns, 

 I found an opportunity to steal away quietly 

 into that sweet w r ood alone. Making my way 

 along a tangled path to a much greater distance than we 

 had penetrated on the former occasion, I passed under 

 some precipitous rocks, and found myself in a shady part 

 of the wood. Here 



" Paths there were many, 

 "Winding through palmy Fern, and Pushes fenny, 

 And Ivy banks ;" 



and I chose one close by the margin of the brook. Huge 

 masses of rock were strewn both in the narrow wood and 

 in the bed of the stream, revealing the fact that, peace- 

 fully as its waters now gurgled on, yet that winter storms 

 could make it rush and roar till the whole of the gorge 



