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KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



way or another. What need is there of a 

 detailed account of every little incident and 

 march in its regular order ? We were merely 

 rambling, not surveying ; and this is but a 

 page from a Rambler's Note-book — not a 

 geographical monograph. What need, either, 

 for a mention of every plant ? Some are so 

 commonly met with, that no one thinks them 

 worthy of particular notice. Who, in de- 

 scribing a botanical walk, would particu- 

 larise such way-side plants as the white- 

 flowered dead nettle, Lamium album', or the 

 little blue -flowered germander speedwell, 

 Veronica chammdrys ; and who would expect 

 to take a half-hour's walk into the country, 

 and not meet the modest blue bell, Cam- 

 panula rotundifolia, in his way ; also the 

 golden, brown Sarothamnus scoparius, and 

 its spiney, ever -flowering relative, the furze 

 or whin, Ulex Europeus — with a hundred 

 other every- day familiars, all of which, 

 that 



" Wee, modest, crimson tippet flower, 



the daisy, not excepted, were met with, and 

 helped to increase the weight of our tin 

 cases ? 



The Tweed, as might be expected, was an 

 object of no small interest to us — the river 

 which Scott and Hogg, and a multitude of 

 lesser bards had sung- — and was not to be 

 passed carelessly, even had we had no long- 

 ings after a morsel of its famous salmon. 



When we first saw it, the river was clear 

 as crystal — not a green leaf or finny creature 

 in its bosom, but we could distinctly trace 

 it. However, at the time of our second visit 

 dark clouds had o'ercast the sky, and large 

 drops of warm rain were falling fast upon 

 our shoulders : and as we looked upon the 

 dark and swollen stream, we could not resist 

 the melancholy satisfaction of repeating the 

 words of one of Scotland's dearest songs — 



" I've seen Tweed's silver stream, 

 Glht'ring in the sunny beam, 

 Grow drumlie and dark as it roll'd on its way." 



But it is not with poetry that we have 

 to do ; it is with plants. On crossing the 

 river, we were charmed with the pretty white 

 flowers of a water crowfoot, which, on ex- 

 amination, turned out to be Ranunculus 

 fluitansQi Lamarck, distinguished from R. 

 aquatilis by the leaves being all divided into 

 threadlike segments, and submersed beneath 

 the water; the silvery white flowers, with 

 their cluster of golden stamens, being the only 

 portion visible to the passer-by. Several 

 patches of R. aquatilis were also seen with 

 floating leaves, divided into three or five 

 rounded lobes, forming, -when dried on paper, 

 a curious contrast with the capillary sub- 

 mersed ones. The wavy green and olive 

 leaves of the crisp pond weed, Poiamogeton 

 crispus, were also in considerable abundance ; 

 as well as the leathery-leaved P. natans. 



Passing on from the river, let us at once 

 into the plantation at Abbotsford, and the 

 first object which attracts our notice is a 

 large cover of meadow-sweet, spiraa idmaria, 

 and thejwood-crane's bill, geranium sylvaticum, 

 with its pretty purple flowers and curiously 

 beaked fruit, forming no inapt representation 

 of the bill of a crane. The unrivalled Lon- 

 don pride, saxifraga umbrosa, shone with a 

 pride so becoming, that we did feel inclined 

 to address it by its commoner name, " Nancy 

 Pretty!" So beautiful are the flowers of 

 this little plant, and so exquisite are the 

 pencillings on them, that the belief is pre- 

 valent that no artist can paint a likeness of 

 it ; and so far as the writer has observed, 

 the popular opinion seems tolerably true : — 



" Who can paint like Nature ? 

 Can imagination boast, 

 Amid her gay creations, hues like these, 

 And lay them on so delicately line, 

 And lose them in each other 1 " 



" Deep in the forest glade " the flesh- 

 colored spike of the bistort, Polygonum bis- 

 toria, was found, and enriched more than 

 one student's vasculum; and the three-colored 

 wild violet, or heartsease, viola tricolor, said 

 to be the origin of the richer-colored ones 

 in the garden, was, as usual, abundant, with 

 the modest dog violet, V. canina. 



Not the least beautiful, though by no 

 means the rarest of our captures, was the 

 lovely wood-forget-me-not,M?/osotas sylvatica. 

 Never had we seen it look so fresh, or show 

 so rich a blue ; it seemed to know that it 

 grew on holy ground, and forcibly ^called to 

 our minds the beautiful words of the poet 

 Clare : — 



" A flower is not a flower alone, 

 A thousand sanctities invest it ; 

 And as they form a radiant zone 

 Around its simple beauty thrown, 

 Their magic tints become its own, 

 As if their spirits had possess'dit." 



Had, in reality, as we almost believed it, 

 the spirit of the mighty bard hovered about 

 the lovely green, we could not have looked 

 on it with more admiration ; nor could it 

 have been more firmly impressed on our 

 memory. Primroses, Primula vulgaris, and 

 columbines, Aguilegia vulgaris, were in 

 abundance ; looking beautiful amid the forest 

 of green which surrounded them. Tall 

 grasses and hemlocks looked grave or gay, 

 as the sun stole over them ; and trees, whose 

 trunks were yet free of " usurping ivy," were 

 plentifully covered by patches of "idle 

 moss." The cypress moss, Hypnum cupres- 

 siforma, was in great plenty, as well as its 

 less beautiful companion, the Orthotrichum 

 striatum. 



The only other plant we here care to 

 mention, is the common ling or heather, 

 Calluna vulgaris, which, though by no means 

 plentiful in the wood or uncommon in the 



