fragile. It loves a somewhat moist situation, and is a great pest to the agriculturist. We have also a third convolvulus, called the sea bindweed (Calystegia soldanella), which decks our coasts with its trailing clusters of large pink yellow-rayed flowers, and dark green succulent leaves. This and the great bindweed formerly belonged to the genus convolvulus, derived from the Latin convolvo, on account of its twining character. Calystegia is taken from two Greek words signifying beautiful and a covering, in allusion to the bracteas which distinguish these bindweeds from the true convolvulus. Perhaps I ought here to explain that the bracteas are those floral leaves which expand themselves at the same time as the flower, and differ from the leaves in general, as well in colour as form. At the seaside we might now also gather the pale yellow blossoms of the sea-cabbage (Brassica oleracea), which ornaments the chalky heights with its abundant clusters of handsome flowers. It is the origin of all our cultivated cabbages, which are scarcely recognisable in this wild, straggling, heartless plant. And almost as common on our English coast is the sea-holly (Eryngium maritimum), with its sea-green, spiny leaves, delicately veined with white, its large, tough stem, and blue, thistle-like flowers, which burst in masses from their scaly receptacle. It is a sturdy plant, blooming freely during this and the two following months, in defiance of weather or exposed situation. 'Eryngo, to the threat'ning storm His azure crest and warrior form, The sea-pea (Lathyrus pisiformis) flowers now, spreading its clusters of purple blossoms over the sandy grass; as well as the sea-rocket (Cakile maritima), with its pretty pink-white flowers, and soft bluish-green leaves; the scurvy grass (Cochlearia maritima), with white flowers, and tufts of kidney-shaped leaves; and the rock samphire (Crithmum maritimum), with its pale green, fleshy leaves, which make so delicate a pickle for our table. But no blossom on our coasts is so gay as the beautiful sea-celandine, or yellow-horned poppy (Glaucium luteum), which grows close down by the sea, drooping its fragile petals with every whisper of the breeze. Its flowers are a brilliant amber colour, glowing in low bushy groups of delicate sea-green leaves, which, with the stem, are covered with that peculiar bloom called by botanists glaucous. Its peculiar feature is the curved seed-pod, that grows boldly out, often half a foot long. But this is a digression from the blossoms of our country ramble, where in the pasture or hedge-side we shall now find blooming the common yellow rattle (Rhinanthus Crista Galli), so tall and erect, with its small yellow blossoms and swollen flower-cup. It belongs to the figwort tribe, grows about a foot high, and is called rattle, from the noise made by every passing breeze shaking the ripe seeds in their husks. This plant is a great annoyance to the husbandman; and so is that pretty pea-shaped blossom, the rest-harrow (Ononis arvensis), which has earned its name from the way its tough roots and branches often check the action of the harrow. It is often very plentiful on the links and chalky cliffs of the seashore. Its flowers are a purplish pink, sometimes white, and it is armed with many strong spines. Near the rest-harrow, the common juniper (Juniperus communis), so extensively used in the flavour of gin, is now in bloom. In England it never attains any size; but in other countries it rises to the height of trees, and often affords a green and fragrant shade. And from this you can understand how Elijah, when threatened by Jezebel, and fleeing to the wilderness, 'lay and slept under a juniper-tree :' 'When from King Ahab's wrath Elijah fled, This mountain shrub gave shelter and a bed.' The Swedes convert its berries into a preserve and beer. 'In the greenwood, on the hill, Fluttering to the breeze, Gay as the fly that's never still, In almost any hedgeway or wood we shall find the beautiful purple orchis (Orchis mascula) of early summer, |