WILD LIFE IN A SOUTHERN COUNTY. 233 



in the meadow. But the earth is treacherous on its 

 banks formed of decayed branches, leaves, and 

 vegetable matter, hidden under a thin covering of 

 aquatic grasses. Listen ! there are a faint rustling 

 and a slight movement of the grass : it is a snake glid- 

 ing away to its hole, with yellow-marked head lifted 

 above the ground over which his dull green length is 

 trailing. Stepping well over the moist earth, and 

 reaching the firmer ground, there the thistles grow 

 great and tall, many up to the shoulder ; it is a little 

 more open here, the stoles having been cut only two 

 years ago, and they draw the thistles up. 



Sometimes the young ash, shooting up after being 

 cut, takes fantastic shapes instead of rising straight. 

 The branch loses its roundness, and flattens out to a 

 width of three or four inches, curling round at the 

 top like the conventional scroll ornament. These 

 natural scrolls are occasionally hung up in farmhouses 

 as curiosities. The woodmen jocularly say that the 

 branch grew in the night, and so could not see its 

 way. In some places (where the poles are full 

 grown) the upper branches rub against each other, 

 causing a weird creaking in a gale. The trees as the 

 wind rises find their voices, and the wood is full of 

 strange tongues. From each green thing touched by 

 its fingers the breeze draws a different note : the ben- 

 nets on the hillside go " sish, sish ; " the oak in the 

 copse roars and groans ; in the firs there is a deep 

 sighing ; the aspen rustles. In winter the bare 

 branches sing a shrill " sir-r-r." ~ 



