NATURE NEAR LONDON 



reptile that may chance to be heard rustling in the 

 grass, and to strike tussocks with the walking-stick 

 before sitting down to rest, for the adder is only 

 dangerous when unexpectedly encountered. 



In the roadside ditch by the furze the figwort 

 grows, easily known by its coarse square stem ; and 

 the woody bines, if so they may be called, or stalks 

 of bitter-sweet, remain all the winter standing in 

 the hawthorn hedge. The first frosts, on the 

 other hand, shrivel the bines of white bryony, 

 which part and hang separated, and in the spring a 

 fresh bine pushes up with greyish green leaves, and 

 tendrils feeling for support. It is often observed 

 that the tendrils of this bryony coil both ways, with 

 and against the sun. 



But it must be remembered in looking for this 

 that it is the same tendril which should be ex- 

 amined, and not two different ones. It will then 

 be seen that the tendril, after forming a spiral one 

 way, lengthens out like a tiny green wax taper, and 

 afterwards turns the other. Sometimes it resumes 

 the original turn before reaching a branch to cling 

 to, and may thus be said to have revolved in three 

 directions. The dusty celandine grows under the 

 bushes ; and its light green leaves seem to retain 

 the white dust from the road. Ground ivy creeps 

 everywhere over the banks, and covers the barest 

 spot. In April its flowers, though much concealed 



