A BLACKBERRY BUSH IN AUTUMN. 191 



yellow spots here and there among their foliage, the 

 elms are dropping their leaves and are visibly more 

 bare than they were a fortnight ago, while the back- 

 ground of bracken has lost its beautiful green, and is 

 little more than a mass of yellow and brown, flecked 

 sparely with green where a few of the younger plants 

 still preserve their colour. Only the oaks remain 

 apparently unchanged, but then they are always late, 

 both in getting their foliage and losing it. Indeed, so 

 tenacious are the leaves of their hold, that they cling 

 to their branches throughout the winter, and only fall 

 when the new leaves of the ensuing spring force them 

 from their place. 



But the greatest change of all has fallen on our 

 blackberry bush. All its bright freshness has gone, 

 and there is little to remind us of its vanished beauties. 

 The leaves are dull, harsh, and brittle, and most of them 

 are dimmed with many a spot and patch of black, 

 yellow, or brown, while in many cases all three colours 

 are to be found on the same leaf, a few straggling and 

 uncertain dashes of the original green being left between 

 them. 



In fact, the leaves have now almost fulfilled their 

 mission both to the plant and its visitants. The 

 winter's repose is at hand, the plant will no more 

 extend its growth; the rootlets which supply it with 

 nourishment have served their office, and the leaves, 

 which are its lungs, need no longer supply it with air. 

 There is a wonderful and very close analogy between a 



