THE 1 TERN PARADfSE. 



if we love scenery, and if we love Ferns, we 

 cannot climb this hill without stopping to admire 

 both, for both are of the rarest kind. 



Arrived at the top of the hill, we have in front 

 a park gate, leading to somebody's mansion, and 

 two turnings for choice, one directly to the right, 

 the other directly to the left. Both are charming, 

 but the one to the right is irresistible. The left 

 turning is a road ; the right one is a lane. No 

 Fern hunter who might reach this turning-point 

 when out for a saunter, would hesitate for one 

 moment. 



The ' lane ' at its entrance is wider than the 

 * road.' On the left a grassy hedge-bank is over- 

 topped by arching trees, which grow out of it, 

 and bending forward, fling their green tops across 

 the whole width of the pathway. On the right is 

 also a grassy hedge-bank topped by bushes- 

 stunted but picturesque growths of the elder, the 

 hawthorn, and the elm. A grassy carpeting 

 under our feet, except where sacrilegious carts 

 have made ' ruts,' and occasional foot-passengers 

 have worn a narrow path. Moss-covered tree 

 trunks, and inviting forms of Fern life, which 



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