ed
trees, the most common of which had fine dark-green glossy leaves, with
spikes of bright-yellow flowers terminating the branchlets. There were
also many peculiar shrubs and flowering plants, of a sort that the
travellers had never seen the like of in their native land.

"How I wish," said Martin with a sigh, as he rode along beside his
friend Barney, "that I knew something of botany."

Barney opened his eyes in surprise. "Arrah! it's too much of a
philosopher ye are already, lad. What good would it do ye to know all
the hard names that men have given to the flowers? Sure I wance wint
after the doctor o' a ship, to carry his box for him when he wint on
what he called botanical excursions; and the poor cratur used to be
pokin' his nose for iver down at the ground, an' peerin' through his
green spectacles at miserable bits o' plants, an' niver seemin' to enjoy
anything; when all the time _I_ was lookin' far fornint me, an all
around me, an' up at the sky, seein' ivery beautiful thing, and
snifterin' up the sweet smells, an' in fact enjoyin' the whole
univarse--an my pipe to boot--like an intelligent cratur." Barney
looked round as he spoke, with a bland, self-satisfied expression of
countenance, as if he felt that he had given a lucid definition of the
very highest style of philosophy, and proved that he, Barney
O'Flannagan, was possessed of the same in no common degree.

"Well, Barney," rejoined Martin, "since you give me credit for being a
philosopher, I must continue to talk philosophically. Your botanical
friend took a _microscopic_ view of nature, while you took a
_telescopic_ view of it. Each view is good, but both views are better;
and I can't help wishing that I were more of a philosopher than I am,
especially in reference to botany."

"Humph!" ejaculated Barney, who seemed not quite to understand his young
friend, "yer observations are remarkably thrue, and do ye great credit,
for yer years. Ah! Mr Hermit, good luck to ye! I'm glad to see that
ye've got some consideration for man and baste. I'm quite ready for my
victuals, and so's my mule; aren't you, avic?"

Barney's latter remark was addressed to his patient charger, from whose
back he sprang as he spoke, and slackened its girths.

It was now approaching mid-day, and the hermit had pitched upon a large
tree as a fitting spot for rest and refreshment. Water had been brought
up the mountain in a huge calabash; but they did not require to use