62 VIGNETTES FROM NATURE, 



thick with pinky bloom, a good promise for 

 the cider season ; and the trunks, blown all 

 one way by the wind, are almost hidden from 

 sight by the lu;'iiriance of their lovely burden. 

 Beyond, again, the broad alluvial level 

 stretches away to westward, with the Axe 

 meandering in S's through its midst ; while 

 in the distance the russet ploughed fields 

 among the meadows on the opposite range 

 betray the red triassic soil of Devonshire. 

 Looking along the river s course, a glimpse 

 of sea closes the vista towards Seaton — a 

 mere blue bay, hemmed in between the red 

 cliff of Axmouth on the one hand and the 

 taller white chalk bluffs of Beer Head and 

 Branscombe on the other. But it is not 

 wholly for the sake of the view that I have 

 toiled up the abrupt gradient of Musbury 

 Castle this clear May morning. Among the 

 flinty piles of the old earthworks — once the 

 border fortress of the Durotriges against their 

 Damnonian foes — a little flower grows from 

 year to year, which is found nowhere else in 



