105 



that lift tlieir heads so gracefully, whilst the beautiful forget-me-not and 

 the yellow- cress appeared wherever space couM be found, to ornament the 

 banks. The beautiful sprays of the purple vetch, the noble bloasonis of the 

 large white convolvulus (how this would be prized if it were only exotic), and 

 the lychnis, the corafrey, and numerous other plants which always delight 

 the eye of a botanist, or recall some old associations. 



A flower is not a flower alone, 



A thousand sanutities invest it, 

 Ami as they form a radiant zone. 

 Around its simple beauty thrown 

 Their magic tints become its own, 



As if their spirit had possessed it. 



— Douglas Allport. 



On went the boats by the pretty village of Walford, between the Leys-hill and 



the Coppet Wood-hill, under the Kyrne bridge, past Lydbrook, until the 



fine rocks of Cold well stood up boldly from the woody steeps, and were 



commanded by Symond's Yat at the end. At the foot of the slope the 



several passengers landed, and began the ascent through the woods to the Yat. 



The President and his companions had been the first to arrive, then came 



two other boats, but where were the rest? After a long half-hour, one 



appeared round the corner, and the other quickly followed it. Happily 



they had not met with any casualty, but had stopped to see the church of 



Welsh Bicknor. The ascent to the Yat was soon made, the whole party being 



meanwhile subjected successively to the systematic begging of officious old 



women insisting on rendering unnecessary services, and children offering 



unripe apples, &c., &c., common to all "the pretty places which ye English 



do frequent." They had no sooner reached the summit than a flying cloud 



passed over, and a sharp shower of rain sent everyone off to shelter under 



rocks or under trees, as best they could. In a few minutes it had passed over, 



the whistle-call sounded, and the party assembled, to listen to the following 



address : — 



