A GLANCE AT BRITISH WILD FLOWERS. 177 



fence corner, or under any hedge, or on the border 

 of any field, and the chances are ten to one you will 

 take it back again with surprising alacrity. And 

 such a villainous fang as the plant has ! it is like the 

 sting of bees. Your hand burns and smarts for hours 

 afterward. My little boy and I were eagerly gather- 

 ing wild flowers on the banks of the Doon, when I 

 heard him scream, a few yards from me. I had that 

 moment jerked my stinging hand out of the grass as 

 if I had put it into a hornet's nest, and I knew what 

 the youngster had found. We held our burning fin- 

 gers in the water, which only aggravated the poison. 

 It is a dark-green, rankly growing plant, from one to 

 two feet high, that asks no leave of anybody. It is 

 the police that protects every flower in the hedge. 

 To " pluck the flower of safety from the nettle dan- 

 ger " is a figure of speech that has especial force in 

 this island. The species of our own nettle with which 

 I am best acquainted, the large-leaved Canada nettle, 

 grows in the woods, is shy and delicate, is cropped 

 by cattle, and its sting is mild. But apparently no 

 cow's tongue can stand the British nettle, though 

 when cured as hay it is said to make good fodder. 

 Even the pigs cannot eat it till it is boiled. In star- 

 vation times it is extensively used as a pot-herb, and, 

 when dried, its fibre is said to be nearly equal to that 

 of flax. Rough handling, I am told, disarms it, but I 

 could not summon up courage to try the experiment. 

 Ophelia made her garlands 



" Of crow-flowers, daisies, nettles, and long purples." 

 12 



