222 UPON A DAY 



beautiful; not only for the jewelling of the honey- 

 suckle or the pink dog-rose, but because of the 

 common nettle, water-dock, meadow-sweet, and yellow 

 ragwort that help to give the brook its own identity, 

 closing it in and screening it from the rude gaze of 

 things outside. 



In one spot only is the luxuriance of plant life less 

 than tropical, and here there is none at all. This spot 

 is under the cedars. There is a solitude of majesty, 

 and no plants may flourish there. Only the rabbits 

 burrow round about, and the otter finds a home 

 beneath their overhanging roots. Close to them is 

 the tent-dweller's favourite post, and here he will lie, 

 sometimes for hours, in the hottest part of the day. 

 Idling ? Well, yes, I suppose it is idling ; at least, 

 that is what Throgmorton Street would say. He is so 

 still you might suppose him fast asleep. But, in truth, 

 every sense is strung to its highest pitch. Nothing 

 escapes him. Not the briefest shadow of a passing 

 bird : not the faintest rustle in the grass. He can see 

 and learn more in this way in a single hour than if he 

 were to walk a whole day up the brook. That is the 

 way to study Nature. Go a hundred yards away from 

 the house in any direction, and be still. Wild things 

 are all about you then. The way through the wood, 



