HANDY BOOK 
BRITISH FERNS AND MOSSES. 
JANUARY. 
WHY is it that folks care not for green mosses, 
Except to pack their crates ? "Why do enthusiasts 
Pore for sea- weeds until their eyes grow weak, 
Beneath stern beetling crags, by rushing waves, 
With no small peril, or of life or limb, 
Yet pass unheeding by this lowly tribe, 
The meekest of Earth's children ? 
FEKXS are not yet unfolded. Our attention must there- 
fore be directed to the brotherhood of mosses, those unas- 
suming yet peerless members of a large community, grow- 
ing in lanes and woods, or beside dripping rocks, uninjured 
by wind, storm, or frost. 
Look upon a bank of mosses when a sudden gleam of 
sunshine lights up the wintry landscape, and a soft south 
wind has caused a sudden thaw ! beautiful are they in their 
freshness and luxuriance ; in their greenness too, for 
mosses retain their verdure at all seasons. A few ice- 
spangles may gem their leaves, but these begin to melt, and 
their most exquisite ramifications remain uninjured, even 
by the heavy pressure of frozen snow. 
Mosses were ever my delight ! they grew on the roots of 
our old fantastic beech-trees, beside many a clear stream 
that gushed from out some cavernous recess, and went 
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