8 Woodside. 



reminds us of the cultivated cherries in the gardens all 

 around ; for are we not in " The Garden of England," the 

 county far famed for " hops, fair maids, cherries and civility " ? 

 Our minds run back rapidly ; we think of Lucullus, the 

 Roman general, who brought the tree into Europe from Asia, 

 and recall the fact that when introduced into Britain 

 years afterwards, first the monks, and afterwards our royal 

 sovereigns, deigned to grow this delicious fruit, both for 

 pleasure and profit, and gave to Kent its position, par excel- 

 lence, as a cherry-growing county. 



We come out into the road again a little higher up, near 

 some cottages, and close to a road which leads to Gad's Hill ; 

 then on past the inn, where we find the ground cleared 

 again on both sides, although wooded knolls appear on the 

 topmost ridges. Soon, on the left-hand side of the road, the 

 woods creep down again, and grand old oaks spread their 

 massive branches over the road, whilst a thick undergrowth 

 of hazel, sallow, blackthorn and whitethorn forms a dense 

 covering which bids defiance to him who would enter from 

 the road, and affords a safe retreat to multitudes of birds. 

 Here and there an old trunk is almost hidden with a 

 wonderful covering of ivy, reminding us that Shakespeare 

 makes one of his characters say 



" The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, 

 And sucked my verdure out." 



Although, rather than as an emblem of false friendship, we 

 would prefer to look on it as " striving to hide time's 

 envious ravages," and as lending 



" Beauty to decay and death, 

 Throwing a loveliness round loveless things." 



From the trees hundreds of tiny spiders are hanging their 



