The Cherry is wild in many parts of the New Forest and is a striking and beautiful object whether in blossom or fruit. The name of 'Merry tree' applied to the Wild Cherry is doubtless a corruption of the French mérisier, and merry orchards' a corruption of mérise orchards. In one locality of the New ForestWoodgreen-there is an annual market held for the sale of this half-wild fruit-a mérise fair, and locally in fact called merry fair.' The Oaks and Beeches at Burley furnish, too, a large proportionate contingent of the great forest fruit crop of mast,' upon which still the characteristic Hampshire hogs-whose ancestors could doubtless have claimed close relationship with the now extinct wild boar-are largely fed as of yore. Both acorns and Beech mast are termed mast.' But, when both are referred to, a convenient word -'akermast '—gives the mixture a collective expression. 6 Of the famous Oaks of Burley mention must not be omitted of the Twelve Apostles,' once remarkable both for size and beauty. But age has diminished their grandeur and spoilt their name for though still called the twelve apostles, they number only eleven. Nor must the gravelly conglomerate Burley rock escape a passing notice, for the quarries which furnish it forth provided foundations for the older churches of the forestthose at Brockenhurst, at Minstead, and at Sop ley. Near Burley the Raven used to build but now builds no more, and its departure, like that of the grand old trees which formerly stood around this forest village, gives another indication of the spirit of the age.' From the leafy depths of Burley we ascend on our way to Ringwood, continuing the road we were following on entering the village. Beyond, towards Ringwood, we enter upon an extensive space of moorland covered by Heath and Gorse. Darkness has now fairly come upon us and our walk is quiet and impressible. Around us on all sides, stretching away until the eye in the near distance loses it, is the wild vegetation of the open forest. Now and then we can dimly discern the pale form of a night moth flitting noiselessly like some visible spirit of the night or a frog, which we surprise in the middle of our way, begins to hop leisurely to either side, or leaps noisily into some small, glistening pool of water visible by the sparkle of light reflected from the stars. Then amongst the minor incidents which make a night walk impressible there is the sudden and mysterious rustling in some clump of Gorse, Heather, or Fern. Somewhat similar with regard to many of its features is a night walk through a country lane. But a forest walk after nightfall is much more enjoyably impressive, when no light from cottage window meets the eye for many a long mile, and wide-extending heath or moorland is only broken by the black masses of woods which stand out with gloomy grandeur into the night. But soon to the dim light from the stars is added the radiance of the moon, which, as we continue our way, begins to peep above the horizon and to silver the distant landscape, turning into things of beauty the lighter banks of cloud which, before the rising of the orb of night, had lain black against the sky, shutting out the radiance of many stars. Then at length we hear in the distance the shrill whistle which tells us |