Aphaca, but that, like so many good things, belongs to the days of old; I have never seen it, but Mr. Mackeson, of Hythe, tells me he gathered it there many years ago. But Nissolia is still to be seen, though in greatly diminished numbers, for the path has been cut close by, if not through, the very spot where I saw it every year. The same place was also sacred to the Deptford Pink (Dianthus Armeria); I have never seen them elsewhere. I have not been able to find either of them since 1877, though I have been told of a solitary specimen of each gathered in 1879; I would fain believe they are still lingering in some unknown, and therefore safe nook. The patches of V. bithynica are rather extensive; it is a vetch. which attracts notice at once by the white wings of the flower, backed by the purple standard. Trifolium and Medicago are represented by several species, and L. pratensis is here in groves. T. arvense, the Hare'sfoot Trefoil grows only in one small patch near the summit above the turnpike gate.

On the slope below the Old Church the Nottingham Catchfly (Silene nutans) crowds together, and a small patch of the fragrant Butterbur (Petasites fragrans) appears quite naturalized close by. The Fennel (Faniculum officinale) betrays its presence by its odour just behind the Bathing Establishment, where it is surrounded by tall straggling heads of Charlock (Sinapis arvensis) and its close relation S. alba. A few years ago I found a grand specimen of the Dame's Violet (Hesperis matronalis) but it has since disappeared. Beyond the turnpike gate the cliff face in May and June is covered with the pretty pink blossoms of Thrift (Armeria maritima), and the

common Stone-crop (Sedum acre) flowers along the border of the upper path; we may also find a few specimens of it on the rocks on the opposite side of the road, in which patch of ground flourishes also the Burdock (Arctium Lappa) Here too by the side of a stream containing just enough water to keep its channel marshy, I was shown four or five years ago the bright blossoms and leaves of the Bog Pimpernel (Anagallis tenella); it was plentiful then, and the specimens I gathered have lost little of their beauty, but the slips and shiftings of the ground seem now to have caused its disappearance. Here and there along the road we find the Tree Mallow (Lavatera arborea), the Woody Nightshade (Solanum dulcamara), and the Teazel (Dipsacus sylvestris). The Brambles are in profusion, but (except in fruiting time) I always fight shy of them, having a wholesome fear of Babington and his forty-nine species. There are the Dewberry (Rubus cæsius) and the Blackberry (R. fruticosus), that is all I venture to say about them.

One thing, however, the Lower Road lacks, namely trees, they do not seem to get on there at all; the Scotch Fir thrives the best, but even these are sorry specimens, libels on their species to any one who has seen the magnificent trees in some parts of Scotland. Several hundreds have been lately planted on the slopes, the majority of which bid fair to succeed, so that in a few years there will be a great improvement. And while we are speaking of this Fir, let me tell you that it is worth while tapping the blossoms with your stick in the early summer only to see the enormous clouds of yellow pollen which will fill the air. Concerning which pollen, strange tales

were afloat during the summer of 1879. In the neighbourhood of Eton and some other spots, it was noted that the ponds of water after rain were covered with a yellow powder. Forthwith it got noised abroad that there had been a shower of sulphur, and it was not reckoned polite by some persons to guess where it came from; one good wife in describing it, said "it smelt awful strong," filling the air round about with its odour; many good people guiltless of botanical lore "improved" the occasion, others (true Englishmen) wrote to the papers about it. A certain botanist, however, who possessed a microscope, annihilated (or attempted to annihilate) all their speculations by declaring the yellow dust to be merely the pollen of the Scotch Fir. Some one, hailing from the Emerald Isle, declined the annihilation, and in his turn wrote to the papers, saying that whatever the powder might prove to be in England, it was neither more nor less than genuine brimstone in Ireland, and rashly offered to send some to the learned botanist. The offer was accepted, and once again (as I need hardly remind my readers) Ireland was robbed of her hopes by the Saxon.

You

I must now add N.B. Caution to Botanists. will find on some parts of these slopes specimens of bona fide garden flowers, the seeds of which were scattered about by a friend of mine in order (he said) to increase the attractions of the cliff. I know what the opinions of many botanists concerning such practices are; I express none, I only give an explanation which might possibly be needed.

To the Entomologist I can only give a few directions. Many lepidoptera are common enough here, but

there are two or three worth hunting for. Of Tapinostola Bondii you may take as many as you want; the larvæ have been found feeding up in the stems of Festuca arundinacea, a grass which is very abundant here. On the stunted poplars "once upon a time" Dr. Knaggs found larvæ of the Anchorite (Clostera anachoreta) which duly produced imagos, the ancestors of most of the specimens now in English cabinets. I have myself reared C. curtula and C. reclusa from caterpillars off these trees. Notodonta dictaa and N. ziczac, two of the Prominent Moths, are still to be found; the larvæ of the Puss Moth (Dicranura vinula) may be taken by scores, and D. bifida has occurred here. The Satin Moth (Liparis salicis) and the Brown Tail (L. chrysorrhea), the Poplar and Privet Hawks abound, and an occasional Death's Head turns up, feeding either on the potatoes in the cultivated patches or on the Garden Tea-tree which surrounds them. Apropos of this insect let me tell you a tale with a moral. A friend of mine out in a boat one evening caught a fine specimen which had settled on the sail. He brought it home and allowed it to wander about the room till after tea, when he purposed to kill it. Accordingly we had a chase after it until it settled on my arm as if appealing to me for protection, little thinking that I too had a vacant space in my cabinet labelled A. atropos. On my attempting to seize it, it uttered its well known " shriek," which sounded so like a piteous appeal for life that my friend's tender feelings overcame his entomological desires, and he declared at once it should not be put to death. he put it under a glass shade, where in a few days

So

he found it starved to death.

insects at once.

Moral:-Poison your

At the flowers of Silene nutans you may very probably in June take Dianthecia albimacula, an insect worth pounds three or four years ago in the market, but now its value is reckoned in shillings. It unaccountably turned up again in this country when everybody thought it was gone, and not only asserted its right as a Britisher, but came in numbers. Some dozens are caught every year in the Folkestone district. Will some of the other insects now on the list of the dear departed ever come back to our land? Shall we ever see the Large Copper again? More unlikely things have occurred. A few larvæ and imagos of the Cream-Spot Tiger (Arctia villica) are taken every year, but they get scarcer, so by the bye do those of Arctia caja-Woolly Bears, for which it is difficult to account. I have reared fine broods of the Emperor Moth (Saturnia carpini) from caterpillars off these brambles; how is it there have been none the last year or two? But 1879 was a bad year for larvæ, at any rate in this locality, else generally the bushes in the hollow past the turnpike gate have been swarming with them.

The only butterflies worth noticing here are the Clouded Yellows (Colias Edusa and C. Hyale with a few Helice) which come occasionally in their unaccountably independent fashion. Melitea Cinxia is also said to have formerly fed on these slopes.

In conclusion, if you, gentle reader, should belong to that unhappy section of mankind known as the non-naturalists, I may yet say you will enjoy this ramble. You may wander along and allow your