A PARADISE OF FERNS. 
35 
Now, as we go downwards, we pass over a tiny 
stream crossed by a rude bridge ; and here over- 
head the tangled bushes again meet, throwing on 
bridge and stream a dark shadow. Down almost 
by the water’s edge, revelling in the moist and 
shady situation, are growing innumerable little 
tufts of the Scaly Spleenwort (Asplenium ceterach). 
The Scaly Spleenwort is in truth a most lovely 
little plant The upper surface of the simple saw- 
edged frond is dark green ; its texture is like 
velvet. Underneath, the surface of the frond is 
completely swathed in rich brown scales, where, 
snugly hiding, lie the spores. 
Here, as we reach the end of this charming 
green lane, the exquisite grace and the exceeding 
loveliness of the scene appear to blend in one 
harmonious whole. We lean over the rude parapet 
of the bridge. Trees above us cast a cool shade 
upon all round and underneath them. Gurgling 
and sparkling along below us the brook babbles on 
its way ; now foaming in playful fancy over its tiny 
stones ; now smoothly resting in mimic pools ; now 
rushing down in a miniature cascade, as its bed 
