DOWN A COMBE TO THE SEA 
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ing waters as they gently speed towards each other, for the 
stream hanks are densely covered with Fern and shrub, which 
hang over from side to side and meet midway. Here are 
Brake, Lady Fern, and Lastreas — -filix-tnas and montanci , — 
the latter with fronds five feet long, mingled in sweet confu- 
sion, and revelling in the shade created by the friendly shelter 
of tall shrubs overarching them, and in the soft humidity 
occasioned and maintained by the splashing current of mur- 
muring water underneath. Lifting, for one moment, the eye 
from this enchanting ferny stream, and looking down the 
combe, we sight the soft blue of the sea, bounded, away in 
the distance, by the Welsh coast line. 
The stream flowing onwards and downwards meanders in 
marvellous fashion ; now tumbling down in tiny cascades as 
its bed makes a sudden drop ; now hissing and foaming as 
the murmuring, down-flowing current is pent by stones which 
block up its channel. Anon, for a moment, it assumes its 
peaceful, uninterrupted flow, hut the next it is precipitated 
in a shimmering, sparkling sheet, over long, moss-covered 
stones, its smooth and silvery surface flashing with the 
reflected sunlight which dances upon it. 
We follow with loving persistence its downward Aoav, each 
moment receiving new pleasure from the ever-changing aspect 
of its murmuring course. Now the water hubbies quietly and 
peacefully by Fern-and-flower-fringed banks which rapidly 
undulate ; now rising above the stream, now falling until the 
stream edge almost kisses the grassy tops of the level turf. 
For a moment the rival charms of the streamside arrest the 
eye from following the placid onflow of the water, and fix it 
on purple clumps of heather, on graceful Fern and golden 
gorse, on the rich colours of thistle and foxglove, and wild 
flowers innumerable. 
Truly the soul of a man who could not feel enthusiasm 
over such lovely scenes as these must indeed be dead ! 
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