332 GENTiANA PNEUMONANTHE. [November, 



thoughts while engaged in simpling, dispose them to relish food 

 which is ofttimes neither savoury nor very nicely prepared. I 

 remember only that I passed a sleepless night at this village inn, 

 and those who tumble about on their beds all night, courting 

 sleep in vain, now in one position, now in another, do not need 

 to be roused up nor called in the morning. My hosts had told 

 me how I could get out, and my bill being paid before I went 

 to bed, and nearly twenty-four hours before I went to sleep, I 

 was ready to start by daylight. 



I believe St. George's Hill was my first destination. Bota- 

 nists are not the only folks who have a penchant for hill-climb- 

 ing ; this is probably one of our national characteristics. 



The hills of Surrey are not nearly so high as the Alps, nor 

 are they so precipitous as the cliffs that flank Dover on both 

 sides. I cannot say that I like them all the better for this. 

 They have, however, one amiable feature in their character — 

 their ascent is easy enough, and a stumble is not formidable to 

 lith or limb, — a comfortable feeling to those who love their collar- 

 bones and necks as well and wisely as I do. 



I was very early on St. George's Hill, but my remembrances 

 both of the plants and of the scenery have passed away like the 

 early dews in the latter end of August. I did not see the 

 Gentiana Pneumonanthe. 



Walton Heath was my destination, and while hunting for the 

 heath, I met a gentleman to whom I related my desires and 

 disappointments, expressing my intention of going to breakfast, 

 and giving up the search for the Calathian Violet. In a very 

 friendly way, this accidental acquaintance earnestly dissuaded me 

 from relinquishing my original intentions. He represented the 

 loss of time and labour incurred on a more than twenty miles' walk. 

 His remonstrances had the desired effect, and I was persuaded, 

 to escape from his importunities, to go and consult a neighbour 

 of his, a land-agent, who knew the entire country for many 

 miles around Walton, and who would and could assist me in 

 obtaining the object of my visit. 



I went to this man as one goes who is conscious that he is 

 sent on a sleeveless errand — such as purchasing strap-oil, buying 

 birds'-milk, and such-like fanciful commodities. To him, how- 

 ever, I went, and, like one of the heroes of the ' Mabinogion,' I 

 was told by this land-agent that I must go to another, viz. to 



