Will. I wonder at that. I am sure I hardly took a step that did not delight me, and I have brought my handkerchief full of curiosities home.
Mr. An. Suppose, then, you give us some account of what amused you so much. I fancy it will be as new to Robert as to me.
Will. I will, sir. The lane leading to the heath, you know, is close and sandy, so I did not mind it much, but made the best of my way. However, I spied a curious thing enough in the hedge. It was an old crab-tree, out of which grew a great bunch of something green, quite different from the tree itself. Here is a branch of it.
Mr. An. Ah! this is mistletoe, a plant of great fame for the use made of it by the Druids of old, in their religious rites and incantations. It bears a very slimy white berry, of which bird-lime may be made, whence its Latin name of Viscus. It is one of those plants which do not grow in the ground by a root of their own, but fix themselves upon other plants; whence they have been humorously styled parasitical, as being hangers-on, or dependants. It was the mistletoe of the oak that the Druids particularly honoured.
Will. A little farther on I saw a green woodpecker fly to a tree, and run up the trunk like a cat.
Mr. An. That was to seek for insects in the bark, on which they live. They bore holes with their strong bills for that purpose, and do much damage to the trees by it.
Will. What beautiful birds they are!
Mr. An. Yes; they have been called, from their colour and size, the English parrot.
Will. When I got upon the open heath, how charming it was! The air seemed so fresh, and the prospect on every side so free and unbounded! Then it was all covered with gay flowers, many of which I had never observed before. There were, at least, three kinds of heath, (I have got them in my handkerchief here,) and gorse, and broom, and bellflower, and many others of all colours, that I will beg you presently to tell me the names of.
Mr. An. That I will readily.