HERBS 



A GREAT green book, whose broad pages are illuminated 

 with flowers, lies open at the feet of Londoners. This 

 volume, without further preface, lies ever open at Kew 

 Gardens, and is most easily accessible from every part of 

 the metropolis. A short walk from Kew station brings 

 the visitor to Cumberland Gate. Resting for a moment 

 upon the first seat that presents itself, it is hard to realise 

 that London has but just been quitted. 



Green foliage around, green grass beneath, a pleasant 

 sensation not silence, but absence of jarring sound 

 blue sky overhead, streaks and patches of sunshine where 

 the branches admit the rays, wide, cool shadows, and 

 clear, sweet atmosphere. High in a lime tree, hidden 

 from view by the leaves, a chiffchaff sings continually, 

 and from the distance comes the softer note of a thrush. 

 On the close-mown grass a hedge-sparrow is searching 

 about within a few yards, and idle insects float to and 

 fro, visible against the background of a dark yew tree 

 they could not be seen in the glare of the sunshine. 

 The peace of green things reigns. 



It is not necessary to go farther in ; this spot at the 

 very entrance is equally calm and still, for there is no 

 margin of partial disturbance repose begins at the edge. 

 Perhaps it is best to be at once content, and to move 

 no farther ; to remain, like the lime tree, in one spot, 



with the sunshine and the sky, to close the eyes and 



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