The Ground-Ash | Page 5

gushing of the water made
a pleasant music in that pleasant place; and here and there a sunbeam,
striking upon the sparkling stream, shone with a bright and glancing
light amidst the dark ivies, and brambles, and mossy stumps of trees,
that grew around.
This mound had apparently been cut a year or two ago, so that it
presented an appearance of mingled wildness and gaiety, that
contrasted very agreeably with the rest of the coppice; whose
trodden-down flowers I had grieved over, even whilst admiring the
picturesque effect of the woodcutters and their several operations. Here,
however, reigned the flowery spring in all her glory. Violets, pansies,
orchises, oxslips, the elegant woodsorrel, the delicate wood anemone,
and the enamelled wild hyacinth, were sprinkled profusely amongst the
mosses, and lichens, and dead leaves, which formed so rich a carpet
beneath our feet. Primroses, above all, were there of almost every hue,

from the rare and pearly white, to the deepest pinkish purple, coloured
by some diversity of soil, the pretty freak of nature's gardening; whilst
the common yellow blossom--commonest and prettiest of all--peeped
out from amongst the boughs in the stump of an old willow, like (to
borrow the simile of a dear friend, now no more) a canary bird from its
cage. The wild geranium was already showing its pink stem and
scarlet-edged leaves, themselves almost gorgeous enough to pass for
flowers; the periwinkle, with its wreaths of shining foliage, was
hanging in garlands over the precipitous descent; and the lily of the
valley, the fragrant woodroof, and the silvery wild garlick, were just
peeping from the earth in the most sheltered nooks. Charmed to find
myself surrounded by so much beauty, I had scrambled, with much ado,
to the top of the woody cliff, (no other word can convey an idea of its
precipitous abruptness,) and was vainly attempting to trace by my eye
the actual course of the spring, which was, by the clearest evidence of
sound, gushing from the fount many feet below me; when a peculiar
whistle of delight, (for whistling was to Dick, although no ordinary
proficient in our common tongue, another language,) and a tremendous
scrambling amongst the bushes, gave token that my faithful attendant
had met with something as agreeable to his fancy, as the primroses and
orchises had proved to mine.
Guided by a repetition of the whistle, I soon saw my trusty adherent
spanning the chasm like a Colossus, one foot on one bank, the other on
the opposite--each of which appeared to me to be resting, so to say, on
nothing--tugging away at a long twig that grew on the brink of the
precipice, and exceedingly likely to resolve the inquiry as to the source
of the Loddon, by plumping souse into the fountain-head. I, of course,
called out to warn him; and he equally, of course, went on with his
labour, without paying the slightest attention to my caution. On the
contrary, having possessed himself of one straight slender twig, which,
to my great astonishment, he wound round his fingers, and deposited in
his pocket, as one should do by a bit of pack-thread, he apparently,
during the operation, caught sight of another. Testifying his delight by
a second whistle, which, having his knife in his mouth, one wonders
how he could accomplish; and scrambling with the fearless daring of a
monkey up the perpendicular bank, supported by strings of ivy, or

ledges of roots, and clinging by hand and foot to the frail bramble or
the slippery moss, leaping like a squirrel from bough to bough, and yet,
by happy boldness, escaping all danger, he attained his object as easily
as if he had been upon level ground. Three, four, five times was the
knowing, joyous, triumphant whistle sounded, and every time with a
fresh peril and a fresh escape. At last, the young gentleman, panting
and breathless, stood at my side, and I began to question him as to the
treasure he had been pursuing.
"It's the ground-ash, ma'am," responded master Dick, taking one of the
coils from his pocket; "the best riding-switch in the world. All the
whips that ever were made are nothing to it. Only see how strong it is,
how light, and how supple! You may twist it a thousand ways without
breaking. It won't break, do what you will. Each of these, now, is worth
half-a-crown or three shillings, for they are the scarcest things possible.
They grow up at a little distance from the root of an old tree, like a
sucker from a rose-bush. Great luck, indeed!" continued Dick, putting
up his treasure with another joyful whistle; "it was but t'other day that
Jack Barlow offered me half-a-guinea for four, if I could but come by
them. I shall certainly keep