i 3 4 MY DEVON YEAR 



petals, pink or white, the round-leaved mallow and 

 the wild mignonette all love to be within sound of the 

 sea. Here, too, blue sal via shall be met with, and a 

 rare plant in Devon, that I have seen but once at such 

 a place, is the autumn gentian. Aloft, the bine of the 

 hop decks the thorn with flowers and fruit, and, be- 

 side him, the everlasting pea may clamber and hang 

 out great clusters of blossoms, pale green and pink. 

 The purple-tufted vetch likewise adorns this region, 

 with the common vetch and the two tiny tares ; while 

 the wood vetch fairest and most delicately hued and 

 veined of all the pea-blossomed family shall also 

 here be found by the fortunate. 



As the banks grow open to sea, wind, and sun, 

 certain plants stragglers from the downs and cliffs 

 may be counted upon. The hound's-tongue, the 

 gromwell and the teasel, the little golden carline 

 thistle, the Mary thistle with milk-white veins, and 

 the great nodding thistle all adorn the end of the 

 lane where it vanishes in a "goyle" or upon a pre- 

 cipice's crown of turf. And where such a lane breaks 

 to the edge of the cornfield on the cliff, or dips along 

 ploughed earth, the sky-blue chicory's stars cling stalk- 

 less to their parent stem ; the pimpernel and poppy 

 shine scarlet ; the tiny heart's-ease prospers with the 

 corn-mint and golden chrysanthemum ; the chickweed 

 and fumitory, the hen's-foot, the sea carrot and shep- 

 herd's-needle touch your feet. 



In October my lanes, whither I return to make an 

 end after these devious windings, are aflame and 



