CHAP. xvm. WILD ROSES. 293 



look on them, and that's better than noise. . . H. C. 

 Watson most certainly has me on the hip about Potamo- 

 geton plantagineus ; but I have as certainly floored him 

 about the Buckbean (Menyanthes). . . . The season of 

 wild flowers is over once again (September 1860), and I 

 am not likely to wander far this year. I have never 

 walked less in all my life than this summer. Wishing 

 you all the happiness in this world, I am," etc. 



In the following month, Dick writes to his young 

 friend, " You are all right ; and we are sworn friends ;" 

 and again, " I can't quite make out your hieroglyphics 

 They are a mystery to me. You can write better than 

 I ; only don't drive quite so furiously. I was never at 

 college !" Then he goes on to the Caithness roses again. 

 " Along with this you will receive your catalogue, which 

 I have gone over very carefully, and made some notes 

 thereon. You have omitted some which are very com- 

 mon, and others, which, though less abundant, are found 

 here. I have marked no roses save Rosa spinosissima, 

 Rosa canina, and Rosa micrantha. They are abundant 

 on the braes, by Thurso river, for miles inland. In dry 

 seasons, the leaves appear almost white from their hairi- 

 ness. On a hill six miles away, there grows a rose ; 

 another fourteen miles away; another twelve miles 

 away; another six miles away, on the edge of a cliff' 

 overhanging the sea, and exposed to the full sweep of 

 the northern tempests. I had intended to have sent you 

 specimens of all these roses. But the heavy rains forbid : 



" ' The best-laid plans o' mice and men 



Gang aft aglee.' 

 H 



