262 BERRIES 



itself grows freely enough when planted in Scotland. 

 It is a paradoxical little shrub, something like a stunted 

 holly in aspect, but being in reality a kind of lily. 

 Its true leaves have wasted into minute scales under- 

 neath leaf-like branches, each ending in a stout prickle. 

 In the middle of the sham leaf appears in spring a tiny, 

 whitish flower, to be followed in autumn by a relatively 

 immense scarlet berry. 



It is rather a crying mischief at present, the prevail- 

 ing neglect of native plants. As Mr. Cornish has 

 pointed out lately in his charming book, Wild England 

 of To-day, a well-marked tract of country consisting of 

 sand formation, stretching from Dorking and Ascot to 

 Bournemouth, has suddenly been recognised as ' eligible 

 building property,' and is being converted rapidly 

 ' into one immense residential suburb, composed of 

 houses graded to suit all incomes from 500 a year 

 upwards.' Now the characteristic vegetation of this 

 district consists of heather and pines, fern and furze. 

 The speculative builder's first care is to efface these, to 

 lay out ' grounds ' which it is the seedman's business to 

 provide with lawn, inasmuch as heather is incompatible 

 with croquet and lawn tennis, and the nurseryman's to 

 furnish with shrubberies. Naturally, the nurseryman 

 dumps down whatever he happens to have in stock, of 

 which rhododendrons, mock-laurels, and that most 

 dismal of all shrubs, the Portugal laurel (also a plum), 

 are sure to be most plentiful. There will also be a 

 variety of the newer conifers, wholly irrespective of 

 whether they be dwarf Retinospora, suitable in stature 



