NOVEMBER 241 



heath (Erica vagans) flowered abundantly till the end 

 of October, when its cousin, the arbutus or strawberry 

 tree, took up the running; and yesterday, November 

 26, I stood beside another member of the family, 

 Rhododendron nobleanum, fourteen feet high, bursting 

 into carmine blossom strangely in contrast with the 

 sober surroundings of early winter. This beautiful 

 shrub, a hybrid raised many years ago between the 

 Himalayan R. arboreum and R. caucasicum, seizes 

 every favourable opportunity for flowering. In cold 

 districts it does not often get a chance before February 

 or March; but near the sea it is already gay with 

 flowers. A night of sharp frost will destroy the ex- 

 panded blooms, but there are plenty more in waiting 

 for the next mild spell. The flower-bud of a rhododen- 

 dron is well worth examining as a sample of scientific 

 packing. The long leafy bracts are so beautifully 

 arranged, each with an embryo flower in its embrace, 

 and they lie so close, that both air and wet are 

 effectively excluded by a strong, resinous cement, and 

 the severest frost can make no impression upon the 

 floral treasure within. 



The arbutus, on the other hand, boldly hangs out its 

 tassels of waxy white bells without any protection, 

 quite regardless of the prevailing temperature. More- 

 over, it carries its showy fruit, toothsome-looking globes 

 of orange-red, at the same time, which, together with 

 its evergreen foliage of fine myrtle green, make up a 

 combination which has no rival among British shrubs. 

 Botanists are a serious race, nor can they be gifted as 

 a class with a very quick sense of humour, else they 

 Q 



