Oak; from _dar,_ oak (Sanskrit, daru, a tree), and _da,_
good. It is worth remarking that this idea survives in the
personal name, Holyoak; for who ever heard of "Holyelm," or
"Holyash," or a similar form compounded of the adjective and
the name of any other tree than the oak. If there is an exception
it is in the name of the _holly_. The Cornish Celtic word
for holly was Celyn, from Celli (or Kelli), a grove; literally
a _grove-one;_ so that the holly was probably planted as a
grove or screen round the sacred oak. Such a planting of
a holly grove in the central spot of the Forest in the Druid
time, would account for these trees being now so much more
numerous round the Speech House than they are in any other
part of the woods. The Saxon name is merely the word _holy_
with the vowel shortened, as in _holi_day; and that the tree
really was regarded as holy is shown by the custom in the
Forest Mine Court of taking the oath on a stick of holly held
in the hand. This custom survived down to our own times;
for Kedgwin H. Fryer, the late Town Clerk of Gloucester,
told me he had often seen a miner sworn in the Court, touching
the Bible with the holly stick! The men always kept their
caps on when giving evidence to show they were "Free miners."

The oaks, marked A. B., of whose growth statistics have already
been given, stand on the side of the Newnham road opposite
the Speech House. The Verderer is carrying on the annual
record of their measurements.

We return to the house by the door on the west; the one at
which we arrived last evening. It was then too dark to observe
that the stone above it, of which I took a careful sketch
several years ago, is crumbling from the effects of weather,
after having withstood them perfectly for two centuries. The
crown on it is scarcely recognizable; and the lettering has
all disappeared except part of the R.

We breakfast in the quaint old Court room. Before us is
the railed-off dais, at the end, where the Verderer and his
assistants sit to administer the law. On the wall behind
them are the antlers of a dozen stags; reminders of the time,
about the middle of the present century, when the herds of
deer were destroyed on account of the continual poaching to
which they gave occasion. Many of the cases that come before
the Court now are of simple trespass.

This quaint old room, with its great oak beam overhead, and
its kitchen grate wide enough to roast a deer--this strang