THE FERX PARADISE. 
if we love scenery, and if we love Ferns, we 
cannot climb this hill without stopping to admire 
both, for both are of the rarest kind. 
Arrived at the top of the hill, we have in front 
a park gate, leading to somebody’s mansion, and 
two turnings for choice, one directly to the right, 
the other directly to the left. Both are charming, 
but the one to the right is irresistible. The left 
turning is a road ; the right one is a lane. No 
Fern hunter who might reach this turning-point 
when out for a saunter, would hesitate for one 
moment. 
The c lane ’ at its entrance is wider than the 
‘ road.’ On the left a grassy hedge-bank is over- 
topped by arching trees, which grow out of it, 
and bending forward, fling their green tops across 
the whole width of the pathway. On the right is 
also a grassy hedge-bank topped by bushes — 
stunted but picturesque growths of the elder, the 
hawthorn, and the elm. A grassy carpeting 
under our feet, except where sacrilegious carts 
have made £ ruts,’ and occasional foot-passengers 
have worn a narrow path. Moss-covered tree 
trunks, and inviting forms of Fern life, which 
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