114 OUR WOODLAND TREES. 
shades of evening are creeping on. We must 
hasten our steps. Stay! On our left there is a 
picture lying back from the roadway, and we 
must pause one moment to look at it. It is a 
vignette, and Nature is the artist. The artist’s 
border—her framework—is formed by intertwined 
leafy branches. Underneath them is a pool of 
water; above the watery surface a grassy bank 
with a clustering mass of graceful fern fronds. 
The artist has not forgotten his colours. These 
are chiefly found in the varying shades of leafy 
green; but an intenser hue is lent to the picture 
by the presence in the background of a foxglove 
in full flower, lying within the shelter of an em- 
bowering shrub. But the woodland shades are 
deepening; the woodland music is hushed; so we 
must pass on our way to Lyndhurst. 
