come across fine Walnut-trees to this day, and occasionally to young ones growing wild in hedgerows and wastes.
The old doggerel adage, "A dog and a wife and a walnut-tree, the more they are beaten the better they be," has reference to the manner of harvesting the ripe fruit. Evelyn says: "In Italy they arm the tops of long poles with nails and iron for the purpose [of loosening the fruit], and believe the beating improves the tree; which I no more believe than I do that discipline would reform a shrew." He expresses no opinion on the question of beating dogs.
Sweet Chestnut (Castanea sativa).
Until about the middle of the last century the Chestnut was generally regarded as a genuine native of these islands. It is true that botanists felt that so large and longevous a tree, if native, should be found in the natural forests of this country, or even forming pure forest. These things they did not find, but, on the other hand, they were shown beams in ancient buildings, including Westminster Abbey, which were believed to be Chestnut-wood, and this evidence seemed to point to the fact that Chestnut timber was grown much more plentifully in this country at the period when these old buildings were erected. Dr. Lindley, however, set the matter at rest by examination of the reputed Chestnut beams in the roof of Westminster Abbey, and proved that they were of Durmast Oak. A similar examination of the timbers of the old Louvre in Paris, which were also reputed to be Chestnut, gave a similar result. A comparison of sections across the grain of Oak and Chestnut allows of no possibility of mistake, and it is now known that whilst the wood of young Chestnuts is tough and durable, that from old trees is brittle and comparatively worthless, except for firewood, which is exactly the opposite of Oak-wood. It is now generally agreed that its real home is in Asia Minor and Greece, whence it was
introduced to Italy in very remote times, and has since spread over most of temperate Europe, its seeds ripening and sowing themselves wherever the vine flourishes. We appear to be indebted to our friends the Romans for its introduction to Britain, who no doubt hoped to utilize the fruit for food, as at home—a hope that must have been disappointed, for its crops, even in the South of England, are very fitful, and the nuts quite small.