RAMBLES IN SEARCH OF FERNS. 
43 
CHAPTER VI. 
“ He orders the wind to sweep over the Brakes, 
Which rise and recoil like the billows of ocean; 
At His breath the leaf of the Maiden-hair shakes 
With the Aspen's tender and quivering motion. 
He resses Osmunda in stately array, 
The Filmy fern covers with warm leafy shade, 
The Bristle fern frond He baptises with spray, 
For o'er all creation His grace is display'd.” 
My heart was still yearning for my own dear wood in Yorkshire, 
when a bright boy entered my old friend’s lodgings at Ilfracombe, 
and tossing an armful of common Brakes on the table, he said, 
“ There, Miss Fernlover, you told me yesterday you had rather have 
ferns than sea-anemones, so I have brought some for you. Here is a 
letter, too, which the postman gave me at your door. How, surely 
you ought to thank me ! Tell me if there is anything interesting 
about these Brakes.” 
“ I do thank you, indeed, Willie,” I replied, “and I will tell you 
as much as I know about this fern. It is a great plague in some land, 
growing very deep into the ground ; but frequent mowing will in 
time kill it. When the branches decay, they form good manure, 
especially for potatoes. Sometimes this fern is burned, and then its 
ashes are used in the manufacture of glass, and in some places it is 
burned for fuel. There are parishes in which poor people make beds 
of it, and lay their children upon, when they have a complaint called 
the rickets. It is very interesting to me that the seeds are contained 
in a line at the back of the leaflets, near to the margin, which rolls 
back and covers them : but you will not care for this ( Pteris aquilina, 
