RAMBLES IN SEARCH OF FERNS. 
35 
CHAPTER V. 
“ Whore the water is pouring for ever she sits, 
And beside her the ousel and kingfisher flits ; 
There, supreme in her beamy, beside the full urn. 
In the shade of the rock, stands the tall Lady fern." 
September set in ere I again succeeded in visiting my favourite 
wood. Esther had only agreed that I should do so on condition that 
I would go first with her as far as the old stone bridge, spanning our 
dear brook near its juncture with the Swale, and from thence wend 
our way along the banks of the brook, now on one side and now on 
the other, without attempting to find any beaten path. I readily 
agreed to this, and we reached the bridge in question. Esther insisted 
on our going under it, and I was well rewarded for doing so. The 
archway formed the frame of a wild picture of waterfall and drooping 
trees, with such a wealth of golden flitting lights and deep shadows, 
as might have been a rare prize to any artist ; and from the sides aud 
top of the arch hung tufts of the Black-stalked Spleenwort, and of a 
light feathery fern of a different character. Eagerly gathering and 
examining some of these fronds, I found the seed masses covered by a 
delicate white envelope. These seed masses were round, and in many 
the cover had disappeared. The fragile nature of the plants, the deli- 
cacy of their texture, and, above all, the peculiar seed covers, pointed 
the fern out as Cystopteris fragilis , the Brittle Bladder fern (Plate V., 
Fig. 1 and A). In the specimen in my hand the stalk was dark- 
coloured, and had a few scales towards the base, the frond was broadest 
