SUMMER IN SOMERSET. 283 



The stones are red that lie about, the road dust has a 

 reddish tint, so have the walls of the cottages and mills. 

 Where the banks of the hedges can be seen (or where 

 rabbits have thrown out the earth) they are red, and the 

 water in the ditches and streamlets looks red — it is in 

 fact clear, and the colour is that of the sand and stones. 

 The footpath winds a red band through the grass of the 

 meads, and if it passes under a cliff the rock too rises 

 aslant in red lines. Along the cropped hedges red cam- 

 pions flower so thickly as to take the place of green 

 leaves, and by every gateway red foxgloves grow. Red 

 trifolium is a favourite crop ; it is not much redder than 

 the land which bears it. The hues of the red ploughed 

 squares, seen through the trees, vary as the sun dries or 

 the rain moistens the colour. Then, again, the ferns as 

 the summer advances bring forward their green to the 

 aid of the leaves and grass, so that red and green con- 

 stantly strive together. 



There is a fly-rod in every house, almost every felt 

 hat has gut and flies wound round it, and every one talks 

 trout. Every one, too, complained that the rivers were 

 so low it was difficult to angle. This circumstance, how- 

 ever, rendered the hues of the rocky banks more distinct. 

 Sitting down to dinner by chance with two farmers, one 

 began to tell me how he had beguiled three trout the 

 previous evening ; and the other described how, as he 

 was walking in a field of his by the river, he had seen 

 an otter. These creatures, which are becoming sadly 

 scarce, if not indeed extinct in many counties, are still 

 fairly numerous in the waters here. I hope they will 

 long remain so, for although they certainly do destroy 

 great numbers of fish, yet it must be remembered that 

 in this country our list of wild animals has been gradually 

 decreasing for centuries, and especially wild animals that 



