26 THE CHRONICLES OF A GARDEN. 



rnent,) it is rarely accompanied with any of the more 

 beautiful species of its kind ; and, when thus unsupported, 

 it always disgusts. This white moss, by the way, is 

 esteemed a certain mark of age ; and when it prevails in 

 any degree, is a clear indication that the vigour of the tree 

 is declining. We find also another species of moss, of a 

 dark-brown colour, inclining nearly to black ; another of 

 an ashy colour ; and another of a dingy-yellow. We may 

 observe, also, touches of red ; and sometimes, but rarely, a 

 bright-yellow, which is like a gleam of sunshine ; and in 

 many trees you will see one species growing upon another ; 

 the knotted brimstone-coloured fringe clinging to a lighter 

 species, or the black softening into red. Strictly speaking, 

 many of these excrescences, which I have mentioned under 

 the general name of mosses, should be distinguished by 

 other names. All those particularly which cling close to 

 the bark of trees, and have a leprous, scabby appearance, 

 are classed, I believe, by botanists, under the name of 

 lichens : others are called liverivorts. But all these excres- 

 cences, under whatever name distinguished, add a great 

 richness to trees ; and when they are blended harmoniously, 

 as is generally the case, the -rough and furrowed trunk of 

 an old oak, adorned with these pleasing appendages, is an 

 (jbject which will long detain the picturesque eye." 



Besides the lichens which shew a marked preference for 

 certain kinds of trees, many fungi prefer the shade of 

 particular trees to grow under, or attach themselves to 

 their wood when dead, and in some instances add great 

 beauty to the fallen trunks and roots. I remember, in 



