Thames Reeds and Lilies 107 



stagnant water of pools beside the river than in 

 the running stream. No plant adds so keen a 

 touch of ruin to the winter scene as the reed-mace 

 lifting its torn and fluttering seed-heads above the 

 beaten sedges. 



The true reed is another plant which brings a 

 suggestion of wildness and seclusion into every 

 landscape, from its close association with the 

 loneliest fens and wastes. Rising late in May, it is 

 easily recognizable by its tall, grey-green blades, 

 grey plumes of blossom, and cane-like stems. 

 Country boys still cut harsh shepherd's pipes from 

 these hollow stalks, slitting them so as to leave the 

 inner membrane to vibrate when the pipe is blown. 

 True again to classic precedent, they also cut 

 arrows from the reeds for a child's toy bow, notching 

 the tough shaft for the cord and bedding a nail 

 or wooden splinter in the pith of the arrow's point. 

 Both these crafts must be an inheritance from great 

 antiquity. The same strong though pliant stems 

 form the usual supports of the clinging nest of the 

 reed-warbler, which hangs above the water, lapped 

 to the upright reeds. The summer snowflake is 

 another distinctive blossom of the Thames reed- 

 beds in May, when it opens its cluster of snowdrop- 

 like blossoms at the top of its slender stem. This 

 well-known flower of old-fashioned gardens is prob- 

 ably not a native of Britain ; but it has been 

 naturalized in many places along the Thames and 

 its tributaries, and is so abundant by the side of 

 the drowsy Loddon that it is known as the Loddon 

 lily. 



