456 THE IVY. 



of the lynx, we shall not be able to perceive that the one plant is 

 more healthy, more vigorous, or more verdant than the other ; and 

 if we cut through the stock of the ivy in either situation, we shall 

 see that its upper parts will wither and die, down to the place 

 through which the knife has passed. 



Some few years ago, a tall sycamore tree stood on this island, in 

 a row with four others. A remnant of its once fine bole still occupies 

 the place which the tree adorned in the days of its prosperity. An 

 unexpected appearance of fungus showed that all was not right within, 

 and, erelong, a gale of wind cut the tree nearly in two, sending its 

 head and all its branches (saving one), with a colony of young jack- 

 daws, down into the lake below. The remaining portion of the tree, 

 spared by the gale, put out new shoots from every part of its circum- 

 ference; but scarcely had these vegetated for four succeeding summers, 

 when another immense fungus made its appearance about two yards 

 from the truncated top, and all vegetation ceased that year, down to 

 the part where the fungus had come out. Below this the trunk was 

 still alive ; but another fungus, of equal dimensions with the last, 

 showed itself about five feet from the ground, and deprived the bole 

 of all vegetation upwards. 



At length this sickly remnant of the sycamore tree received its final 

 doom, for, last summer, a vast profusion of fungus pushed up its cir- 

 cular cakes even from below the surface of the ground, and, on their 

 coming to maturity, all the living powers within this ill-treated tree 

 expired. The bole now stands a dead and unproductive stump. 

 Any day, a north-west wind, sweeping across the water, may lay it 

 low for ever. Did the ivy which I had planted at the base many 

 many years ago, depend upon this bole for succour, it would now be 

 dead and withered ; but, on the contrary, that remaining part of it, 

 free from mutilation when the different portions of the tree fell down, 

 is now in verdure, and in primest vigour ; but, as it has no longer an 

 opportunity of creeping upwards, on account of the misfortunes which 

 have befallen the tree, it has assumed the form of a bush, with dense 

 and widely-spreading foliage. 



An opinion prevails, that ivy not only deforms the branch to which 

 it adheres, but that it is injurious to the growth of the timber itself. 

 My wish for the preservation and maintenance of birds urges me on 



