JULY 155 



little swarms, brightening the dark peat and heather with 

 its spikes of fragrant golden flowers tipped with scarlet 

 stamens. People arriving about the 12th of August see 

 nothing of this plant but its seed-vessels and rush-like 

 leaves, both of which turn with the earliest frost to glow- 

 ing orange and carmine, and are the chief element in the 

 rich colouring of autumn moorland. 



This delicate little lily contains a mystery in its modest 

 frame. It is a native of the northern parts of both Europe 

 and America, yet it does not occur in Asia, as almost every 

 other plant does which is found wild in the other two 

 continents; nor does it extend into the Arctic Circle, 

 whence such plants as bearberry, common ling or heather, 

 bracken, wintergreen, Loiseleuria (our only British rhodo- 

 dendron), and the lovely Linnoea, have descended from a 

 common centre into all three segments of the northern 

 hemisphere. Neither is the Narthecium one of those 

 hangers-on of civilisation, like the nettle and coltsfoot, 

 which follow man's footsteps to the uttermost parts of the 

 earth, and thrive at the expense of his labours. No ; the 

 bog asphodel detests improvement, and shrivels into 

 extinction at the very ghost of a drain. How, then, is its 

 existence to be accounted for on both sides of the Atlantic 

 Ocean ? Shall it be subpoenaed some day as a witness for 

 the lost continent Atlantis, like that apparently insignifi- 

 cant, but, as we are now informed, highly significant little 

 fish, the so-called Australian trout (Oalaxias) ? 



But we really must get back to that forest. To be 

 frank, it was neither wild roses nor asphodels nor any 

 zoological problem which I had in view when, one stifling 

 evening last July, I rattled through the dingy approaches 

 to Euston, in which the perennial odour of fried fish takes 



