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Such walks and scenes as I have described conduce to a healthy state both of body and mind, and enable us

To meet life's peaceful evening with a smile.

Our beautiful meadow scenery may, perhaps, be called exclusively English. The verdure of the grass, the variety of flowers, the song of the lark on high, and of the nightingale in the tangled hedge, the thrush heard in the distance on the top of some spreading oak, and the swallow taking its persevering and elegant flight, now aloft and then skimming over the surface of the meadow, are to be heard and seen in this country only, at least collectively. Many of the trees, also, which are met with on the banks of some of our streams are full of beauty. It has been remarked that the weeping willow,

which dips

Its pendant boughs, stooping as if to drink,

was the only one of its species that can be called beautiful; surely, however, those who have seen our common willow,* unpollarded and unlopped, as nature intended it to be, must confess that it is not only a beautiful and graceful tree, but also a picturesque one. Even when pollarded, it adds

See some beautiful specimens of the willow, in the Poet Young's garden at Welwyn, which have been suffered to grow uninjured and unpruned.

to the charm of meadow scenery. Scme of the old trees I have met with on the banks of a rivulet, throw out their bold roots in a direction away from it, then again grasp the ground, as if mindful that the undermining of the bank by the action of the water would cause their destruction. It is amongst these roots that sheep delight to bask. Sometimes, also, I see them under the dry bank of the stream, where they appear to have made a resting place for themselves during the heat of the day.

A little bank there was,

With alder-copse and willow over grown,
Now worn away with winter floods.

As the evening approaches, they scatter themselves abroad in search of food, and then the tinkling bell" may be heard, another of those rural sounds which add a charm to the country.

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But it is time to close my little sketch of rural scenery. It is best enjoyed when the air is soft and balmy, and when all nature puts on a smiling aspect. At such a time we may well rejoice in the prospect around us, and offer up our tribute of gratitude and love to Him, who has spread before us so many objects for our gratification and delight.

Thy forests, Windsor, and thy green retreats,
At once the Monarch's and the Muses' seats,
Invite my lays.

РОРЕ.

THE immediate neighbourhood of Windsor Great Park is rich in varied woodland scenery. There are not only fine thriving Oaks, throwing out their gigantic arms, but sturdy Pollards without end, which seem to have set time, and seasons, and decay at defiance. They are gnarled and knotted, twisted and distorted, yet at the same time vigorous and sound at heart, putting one in mind of a weather-beaten old sailor whose limbs are firm and his body healthy, although his hair is grey and his face seamed with wrinkles. The beeches, too, may be seen of all ages and sizes, picturesque and beautiful in their decay, but while in full vigour and dotted with their sparkling leaves, they are the richest ornament of the wood. The holly loves to nestle under the shelter of its graceful pendulous branches, affording a contrast to its smooth white trunk, on which here and there some pretty lichen may be seen, as if placed there on purpose by the hand of Nature to decorate her favourite tree. I love a beech at all seasons of

BEECH, VARIATIONS OF ITS FOLIAGE.

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the year. In the early spring it seems not only the peculiar resort of the throstle, " that attic songster," and from its top-most branches we

hear

that sprightly wildness in its notes,

Which clear and vigorous warbles from the beech,

but its soft green leaves burst forth, covered with a silvery down, and nothing then can be more delicate than their hue, or more refreshing to the eye.

In the summer its foliage assumes another character, but still a beautiful one. Its leaves are indeed green, but not of that delicate green we see in the spring. A slight tinge of brown may be perceived along the margin of the leaf, which is otherwise smooth and sparkling. The large red fungus may be seen under its shade, while the rough husks of the mast of former years are thickly scattered about. Here and there are small patches of fern, and round the trunk the ground is covered with the softest moss. Here

At ease reclined in rustic state,

the squirrel's "airy bounds" may be seen, and the screaming jay may be heard. Here, also,

Midst gloomy shades, in warbles clear,

Wild nature's sweetest notes we hear.

A black-bird with its orange bill, fearless of danger, approaches the spot, and then retreats uttering its note of alarm. The green wood

pecker may be heard tapping the loose bark of some decaying tree, and then taking its jerking flight to another, filling the wood with its peculiar wild-cry, which, Mr. White says, seems as if it was laughing at all the world. Nor must the Cuckoo be forgotten in this description of woodland scenery. Its hollow note is responded to by that of another, sometimes in rapid succession, till the sounds approach near and more near, and then sudden silence ensues. It is pleasing to hear these unvarying notes. They are listened to with delight by every lover of nature, and there are few birds which would be more missed in rural retreats.

The merry Cuckoo, messenger of spring,

is hailed on his first arrival as the harbinger of fine weather by every peasant in the country. Shakspeare calls it "the plainsong cuckoo," but its notes vary according to the season of the year.

While seated on the spot I have described, it is pleasant to watch the actions of a squirrel. One may sometimes be seen bounding from branch to branch, and then descending to the ground, when it will sit on its hind legs, look around, and then wash its face with its fore-paws. All its actions are graceful. On being disturbed, it hurries up a neighbouring tree, gets on the side opposite to the beholder, and may soon be seen on the topmost branches, except when it hides itself in some

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