THE LIVING GARMENT 51 



every breath on its hair-like stem, of an exquisite 

 tender bkie, the nearest, I think, of any flower to the 

 cerulean hue of the small butterfly's wings. It blooms 

 everywhere on the hills from July to September, but 

 is most abundant about the end of August ; and one 

 cannot help wondering to see this frail flower looking 

 its brightest and best — " enjoying the air it breathes" 

 — when the weather is dryest and hottest. Like 

 the dropwort, it abounds more and grows tallest when 

 it has the protection of some thorny or uneatable 

 plant — heath, furze, or bitter grass. On some of the 

 high downs a grass grows which the sheep refuse to 

 touch ; it is dull green in colour, changing to greenish- 

 brown in late summer, and grows thickly and evenly 

 over the ground to a height of five or six inches, 

 forming a soft carpet which is pleasant to walk on. 

 The shepherds call it " ur-grass." I am not sure about 

 the spelling, but it is pronounced something like 

 " ugh ! " — a familiar human grunt or exclamation 

 of disgust. The summit of Ditchling Beacon, the 

 highest point of the South Downs (and of Sussex), is 

 clothed with this grass, and at the end of last August, 

 after the long excessively hot season, before any rain 

 had fallen, the harebells were so abundant as to give 

 a blue tinge to the earth. While resting on the 

 ground at this spot, it occurred to me to measure 

 a square yard of the surface and count the fully 

 open blossoms contained within that space. They 

 numbered sixty-four. 



