ENGLISH WOODS: A CONTRAST 39 



plants, new flowers, new birds, new animals, new 

 insects, new sounds, new odors; in fact, an entirely 

 different atmosphere and presence. Dry leaves cover 

 the ground, delicate ferns and mosses drape the 

 rocks, shy, delicate flowers gleam out here and 

 there, the slender brown wood-frog leaps nimbly 

 away from your feet, the little red newt fills its 

 infantile pipe, or hides under a leaf, the ruffed 

 grouse bursts up before you, the gray squirrel leaps 

 from tree to tree, the wood pewee utters its plain- 

 tive cry, the little warblers lisp and dart amid the 

 branches, and sooner or later the mosquito demands 

 his fee. Our woods suggest new arts, new pleas- 

 ures, a new mode of life. English parks and 

 groves, when the sun shines, suggest a perpetual 

 picnic, or Maying party; but no one, I imagine, 

 thinks of camping out in English woods. The 

 constant rains, the darkened skies, the low tempera- 

 ture, make the interior of a forest as uninviting as 

 an underground passage. I wondered what became 

 of the dry leaves that are such a feature and give 

 out such a pleasing odor in our woods. They are 

 probably raked up and carried away ; or, if left upon 

 the ground, are quickly resolved into mould by the 

 damp climate. 



While in Scotland I explored a large tract of 

 woodland, mainly of Scotch fir, that covers a hill 

 near Ecclefechan, but it was grassy and uninviting. 

 In one of the parks of the Duke of Hamilton, I 

 found a deep wooded gorge through which flowed 

 the river Avon (I saw four rivers of this name in 



