HEBB8. 189 



out to thirsty travellers at the London railway 

 stations in the hot weather ; knotted figwort, common 

 in ditches ; Aaron's Rod, found in old gardens ; 

 lovely veronicas ; mints and calamints whose leaves, 

 if touched, scent the fingers, and which grow every- 

 where by cornfield and hedgerow. 



This bunch of wild thyme once again calls up a 

 vision of the Downs ; it is not so thick and strong, 

 and it lacks that cushion of herbage which so often 

 marks the site of its growth on the noble slopes of 

 the hills, and along the sward-grown fosse of ancient 

 earthworks, but it is wild thyme, and that is enough. 

 From this bed of varieties of thyme there rises up 

 a pleasant odour which attracts the bees. Bees and 

 humble-bees, indeed, buzz everywhere, but they are 

 much too busily occupied to notice you or me. 



Is there any difference in the taste of London 

 honey and in that of the country ? From the im- 

 mense quantity of garden flowers about the metropolis 

 it would seem possible for a distinct flavour, not 

 perhaps preferable, to be imparted. Lavender, of 

 which old housewives were so fond, and which is still 

 the best of preservatives, comes next, and self-heal 

 is just coming out in flower; the reapers have, I 

 believe, forgotten its former use in curing the gashes 

 sometimes inflicted by the reaphook. The reaping 

 machine has banished such memories from the 

 stubble. Nightshades border on the potato, the 

 flowers of both almost exactly alike ; poison and food 

 growing side by side and of the same species. 



There are tales still told in the villages of this 

 deadly and enchanted mandragora; the lads some- 



