20 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



and the woodbine. Among them grew one with white 

 bells, like a lily, solitary in the midst of the azure 

 throng. A "drive," or green lane passing between 

 the ash-stoles, went into the copse, with tufts of 

 tussocky grass on either side and rush bunches, till 

 further away the overhanging branches, where the 

 poles were uncut, hid its course. 



Already the grass has hidden the ruts left by the 

 timber carriages— the last came by on May-day with 

 ribbons of orange, red, and blue on the horses' heads 

 for honour of the day. Another, which went past in 

 the wintry weeks of the early year, was drawn by a 

 team wearing the ancient harness with bells under 

 high hoods, or belfries, bells well attuned, too, and not 

 far inferior to those rung by handbell men. The beat 

 of the three horses' hoofs sounds like the drum that 

 marks time to the chime upon their backs. Seldom, 

 even in the far away country, can that pleasant chime 

 be heard. 



But now the timber is all gone, the ruts are hidden, 

 and the tall spruce firs, whose graceful branches were 

 then almost yellow with young needles on the tip, are 

 now clothed in fresh green. On the bank there is a 

 flower which is often gathered for the forget-me-not, 

 and is not unlike it at the first glance ; but if the two 

 be placed side by side, this, the scorpion grass, is but 

 a pale imitation of the true plant ; its petals vary in 

 colour and are often dull, and it has not the yellow 

 central spot. Yet it is not unfrequently sold in pots in 

 the shops as forget-me-not. It flowers on the bank, 

 high above the water of the ditch. 



The true forget-me-not can hardly be seen in pass- 



