282 



THE OARDENER'H MONTHLY 



[ September, 



Btrength coupled with all this littleness that gave 

 great weight io everything. First, the streets 

 were generally narrower than I thought they 

 were, na were also the country roads. I remem- 

 bered how good the roads were, and I had 

 so often read of them as models for us to 

 imitate, that I was half ashamed of what I 

 had said when I saw them. In a very large 

 number of cases it is barely possible for two 

 carriages to pass. But the road surface is 

 always, so far as I saw, very good. But sili- 

 cious stone (Hint) is to be had everywhere cheap, 

 and they have no severe frosts to heave up the 

 road-bed, and road labor is comparatively low- 

 priced. Why should they not have good roads? 

 Our roads are not, as a rule, as good as those of 

 Europe, and yet I really think we get more for 

 our money than they do. In some counties 

 there are no toll-gates. I thought it was uni- 

 versal, and remarked on that blessing to a friend 

 while driving out in Wiltshire. " These roads are 

 repaired by a regular parish rate. Wait," said 

 he, " till you get into some other counties." So, 

 when I "took a fly" from Nottingham to go to 

 Newsted Abbey, some nine miles, I was soon 

 met with a request for " thrippence, sir;" and 

 before the portmonnaie was hardly closed, for 

 " thrippence " more. I thought this was grow- 

 ing interesting enough as it was, but when I was 

 soon after asked for a whole "sixpence," I had 

 to think of my Wiltshire friend. Iwenty-tive 

 cents for a nine miles' ride is almost equal to my 

 Rocky Mountain experiences, and on which 

 friend A. S. Fuller so loves to dwell. In these 

 thickly settled districts it would be a disgrace if 

 such prices did not result in good roads. 



Then the native trees are smaller than I 

 thought they were; and they are smaller, on the 

 average, than our own forest trees. They spread 

 out, dividing themselves into huge main 

 branches, and have no inclination to make large, 

 tall trunks, as ours have. But the distance 

 round of some of these short, dumpty trunks is 

 wonderful, and they would put many of our for- 

 est trees to shame. Stems fifteen to eighteen 

 feet round are common, and I measured some of 

 twenty. The commonest of all trees in England 

 is the Elm, though, perhaps, in the forests the 

 Oak is more common, and then, perhaps, the 

 Ash is more commonly seen. Occasionally, 

 only, come Beech and Linden. All these trees 

 have shorter and stouter trunks, and more 

 spreading heads than ours. Some of their 

 smaller trees grow larger than their allies with 



us. For instance, while our common Aspen 

 Toplar rarely grows more than forty feet, theirs 

 would be often sixty. So would be their Alder, 

 while ours is a mere bush; and in Richmond 

 Park, near London, I saw Hornbeams that must 

 be at least sixty feet high, and with trunks as 

 large as our ordinary apple trees. Wagons and 

 coaches were solid and strong, but there was lit- 

 tle room in them, and one-horse' carta might be 

 .•^een everywhere hauling in hay. Ploughs were 

 strong, but it was quite common to see them 

 drawn by four horses, with a boy driving the 

 beasts ! The cixstles and mansions of the nobility 

 and gentry were not as large as I thought they 

 were, nor were the gardens and grounds of the 

 extent I supposed. There are, of course, some 

 places of great magnificence, but on the whole I 

 W51S deceived, and I make this honest confession 

 of my weakness because it is quite common for 

 us all to think that things passed are better than 

 they really were, or something different from the 

 actual fact. I did once think we do not have 

 the big Baldwin apples we had when we were 

 boys, and many more things of that sort, but I 

 am v^ured of it now. I can now understand how 

 it was that Knight, in his old days, came to be- 

 lieve that varieties " ran out ;" and when I hear 

 some good old son of a foreign soil declare that 

 there is nothing in America like the grand things 

 he left behind "at home," I may sympathize 

 with his feelings, though I may not believe his 

 tale. 



England looks beautiful to a stranger, and yet it 

 is surprising, on analysis, to find how few are the 

 materials that go to make v;p its beauty. There 

 are few forests, but most of the hedge rows have 

 limber in them. The trees do not seem to rob the 

 ground on each side, as ours do, and the hedge 

 grows good and perfect quite up to the bole, 

 which ours will not do. We cannot have such 

 fence row timber. Then there are the hedges 

 themselves, mostly of Hawthorn when cared for ; 

 but of Elm, Sloe, Dog Rose and Blackberries 

 when neglected. There is the Ivy which covers 

 the trees, and makes even the saddest ruins look 

 glad, and there is the Holly, that prince of trees, 

 which justly claims a regal admiration. There 

 is its glorious Golden Furze in Spring, and a little 

 later the Golden Broom, and, aa the Summer ad- 

 vances, delicately beautiful Heaths; gay Fox 

 Gloves and gaudy Poppies, and there may be a 

 few other simples to give a charm to field and 

 forest; but how much is left after these? The 

 great beauty consists in its art. In gardening it 



