for certainly a desert cave is almost the last place in which we should look for the true Wild Thyme. It is as a bee-plant especially that the Thyme has always been celebrated. Spenser speaks of it as "the bees alluring Tyme," and Ovid says of it, speaking of Chloris or Flora-- "Mella meum munus; volucres ego mella daturos Ad violam et cytisos, et Thyma cana voco." _Fasti_, v. so that the Thyme became proverbial as the symbol of sweetness. It was the highest compliment that the shepherd could pay to his mistress-- "Nerine Galatea, Thymo mihi dulcior Hyblæ." VIRGIL, _Ecl._ vii. And it was because of its wild Thyme that Mount Hymettus became so celebrated for its honey--"Mella Thymi redolentia flore" (Ovid). "Thyme, for the time it lasteth, yeeldeth most and best honni, and therefore in old time was accounted chief (Thymus aptissimus ad mellificum--Pastus gratissimus apibus Thymum est--Plinii, 'His. Nat.') 'Dum thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadæ.' VIRGIL, _Georg._ Hymettus in Greece and Hybla in Sicily were so famous for Bees and Honni, because there grew such store of Tyme; propter hoc Siculum mel fert palmam, quod ibi Thymum bonum et frequens est."--VARRO, _The Feminine Monarchie_, 1634. The Wild Thyme can scarcely be considered a garden plant, except in its variegated and golden varieties, which are very handsome, but if it should ever come naturally in the turf, it should be welcomed and cherished for its sweet scent. The garden Thyme (_T. vulgaris_) must of course be in every herb garden; and there are a few species which make good plants for the rockwork, such as T. lanceolatus from Greece, a very low-growing shrub, with narrow, pointed leaves; T. carnosus, which makes a pretty little shrub, and others; while the Corsican Thyme (_Mentha Requieni_) is perhaps the lowest and closest-growing of all herbs, making a dark-green covering to the soil, and having a very strong scent, though more resembling Peppermint than Thyme. TOADSTOOLS, _see_ MUSHROOMS. TURNIPS. _Anne._ Alas! I had rather be set quick i' the earth And boul'd to death with Turnips. _Merry Wives of Windsor_, act iii, sc. 4 (89).