to Willow Farm; they are stamped on the back in large
letters "W.H." for William Hammond. A farmer easily knows his own horses
and cows; sheep are less easy to recognise, and are usually marked.

[Illustration: GORSE.]

One of the flowers of the Chase we see at once. In whatever direction we
look across the common there is a perfect blaze of gold--the blossoms of
the prickly Gorse or Furze. Spring is the time to see its mass of golden
yellow blossoms best; but I do not think there is a week, or even a day,
in the whole year when some of the flowers are not out. Did you ever
hear the saying, "Kissing is out of season when the Gorse is out of
bloom." That is never!

The Gorse flowers are beautiful and their scent is sweet. As to
gathering them, however, there is a terrible difficulty. The flowers
grow among long sharp spikes which cover the stems closely; you would
almost as soon gather nettles! There are very few real leaves, and they
are small and not easily seen; but the thorns are beautiful to look at,
if not to touch--they are such a rich dark green.

Nor is Gorse a useless plant. If the prickly stems are bruised or mashed
a little they form a fodder which animals like. Indeed, a pony near us
seems to enjoy them as they are; he is tearing off and eating piece
after piece from a Gorse bush. His mouth must be less tender than ours!

Later in the summer we visit the Chase again to find some flowers that
were not out in May. On our way we pass a potato field in blossom--a
very pretty sight. These blossoms are a palish purple, but sometimes the
potato flowers are white.

The Hairbell is a flower which we shall now find on the Chase--a great
contrast to the stout and thorny bush of Gorse. The Hairbell's stem is
almost as slender as a thread, although it stands upright. Each blossom
is a dainty little blue bell of five petals. White blossoms are
sometimes found, but not often.

There are leaves as well as flowers on the stem. Growing from the lower
part of the stem, close to the ground, we may perhaps find some broader,
rounder leaves; perhaps not, however, for these lower leaves soon wither
and die away.

[Illustration: HAIRBELL.]

The Hairbell loves to grow where there is fresh pure air. Here on the
Chase we are high up; it has been a long steep climb from Willow Farm,
and we are more than five hundred feet above sea level. Far below us, a
few miles away, we see a broad river on which steamers and sailing-ships