THROUGH THE YEAR 133 



To come to fruit bryony needs in England some- 

 thing like six months. Even in October the large 

 berries are scarcely full red on many stems, whilst 

 on others they are orange or even the shining green. 



Bryony was the plant I wrote of as suggesting, 

 by its habit of growth, a sort of " animal intelli- 

 gence " ; and I never can see it feeling its way about 

 the air for support without being struck by this 

 feature. Some remarks I made on bryony's early 

 spring adventure half across the lane in search of 

 support, and back again when it found none there, 

 brought me a letter from Mrs. Chesterman, of Tin- 

 tagel, who is curiously versed in the folklore of 

 English plants. Many of us have dabbled a little 

 in Gerarde and Culpepper, but she has made a 

 minute study of that legendry, finding much of 

 wisdom in all the seeming folly. " Why do you say," 

 she asks, " that our forefathers would have scouted 

 the bare idea of ' mind ' in a plant ? The ancient 

 conjecture, or I might say ' faith ' on that point, 

 seems the most positive thing in their writings. 

 The vine, for instance, was thought to have the sense 

 of smelling and wonderfully to scent any odours 

 ' if shee be neare to radish shee will turn away and 

 withdraw herself backward, as if shee could not 

 abide their strong breath, but utterly abhored it as 

 her very enemy.' Here is the ancient view of the 



* mysterious intelligence ' in some climbers of which 

 you have written. There are passages in your 



* Green World ' which I could set side by side with 

 writing two thousand years old. I suppose there 



