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NATURE NOTES. 
But it is perhaps hardly fair to jest upon a subject of such national importance as 
guinea pigs, and to speak lightly of a correspondence which conveys so serious a 
moral. The moral is that before rushing wildly into print to repel imaginary 
attacks it would be well to ascertain whether the attacks had ever been made. 
We do not grudge the members of the N. G. P. A. the gratuitous advertise- 
ment which they have manufactured for themselves ; but we think the least 
they can do now is to procure Mrs. Brightwen’s book, to read what is written 
therein (which they plainly have not done hitherto), and thus see for themselves 
how absolutely without foundation is the charge by which they have gained a 
brief notoriety. As it is evident that they have not learned to look before they 
leap, we trust that before they enter into any similar causeless crusades they will 
remember a word of warning, which might well be the motto of their society — 
“ Cave.” The Writer of the Review in Nature Notes. 
Sea and Sky Signs. — We congratulate all lovers of Nature on the action 
of the London County Council in the matter of sky signs. It will doubtless lead 
to early legislation for the suppression of these horrors. Miss Agnes Martelli 
sends us a quotation which shows to what dire results sky signs may lead from 
utilitarian, as well as aesthetic point of view : “ The terrible danger of these 
structures in case of fire is apparent, and it is easy to imagine how the horrors of 
the fire of a day or two ago would have been increased had a tottering, swaying 
sky-sign threatened at any moment to crash down among victims and rescuers. 
The likelihood of lightning being attracted by their many angles is another very 
obvious peril, while their staunchest defenders — the makers and inventors — have 
not ventured to deny in the least degree the supreme hideousness of the cum- 
brous constructions.” Miss Martelli also calls our attention to an equal, if not 
greater, abomination — the signs which are now displayed upon the sails of many 
fishing and pleasure boats, and so make the ocean, instead of a thing of beauty 
to the dwellers at our watering places, a hideous remembrancer of all the ills that 
flesh is heir to, by bearing on its bosom innumerable advertisements of quack 
medicines. Miss Martelli sends us an amusing correspondence from the Times 
newspaper, between Mr. Arthur Severn, the well-known painter, and Mr. Beecham, 
the far too well-known purveyor of patent pills. From it we extract the following 
pathetic appeal from Mr. Severn : — “ Nature belongs to me quite as much as to 
Mr. Beecham — indeed, more to me, as I am a painter of nature. A sail (as every 
one knows) is one of the most beautiful objects the eye can rest on, especially that 
of the dear old fishing boat. How am I, or any other artist, to tell its story, its 
vvonderful story, of trial and strength and colour, if Mr. Beecham insists on 
telling his ugly story of suggested stomach ache and pills ? If the nuisance of 
this kind of advertisement is not stopped, there is no saying where it will end. 
Nothing will be sacred ; our rocks, our houses, our streets, our sky — all are being 
spoiled ; and soon, I suppose, a way will be found to advertise on the clouds ! 
Then, indeed, my occupation as a sunset painter will be gone, and my children 
perhaps crying out for bread. ” 
Cheddar Cliffs. — If Miss Dangar, or any other member of the Selborne 
Society, would care to see commercial enterprise triumphant, I should advise a 
visit to that stretch of the Wye known as the Long Reach, about a mile above 
Chepstow Castle. The left bank of the river is here formed by a lofty range of 
gray limestone cliffs, from the base of which a steep wood formerly sloped down to 
the water’s edge. The rocks were once the home of the buzzard, the raven, and the 
kestrel, and the wood gave shelter to numerous plants, including such rarities as 
Geranium sanguineum, Sedum ru pest re and Carex digi/ala. A secluded path used 
by the boatmen, and hence called the Fisherman’s Walk, led through the wood to 
the church of the tiny parish of Llancant, where Sunday evening service was still 
held in summer till about twenty years since. This wood has now almost entirely 
disappeared under the hands of the same agent of civilization, whose advent at 
Cheddar is apprehended — the quarryman. I may add that the artist will find a 
pleasing contrast of colour between the uncompromising reds of the recent 
excavations, and the sombre grays of the untouched cliff above them. 
Westward Ho, Devon. II. A. Evans. 
[We have been informed that “ E. U. S.-W.,” whose letter on the above sub- 
ject we quoted last month, is a constant reader of this magazine. It is all the 
