Moggridge readily consented to be my cicerone to Cap Martin and the vicinity of Monaco. ----- Footnote A: _Contributions to the Flora of Mentone_. By J. Traherne Moggridge. With Coloured Engravings. London, 1868. ----- At ten o’clock I was ready to start, equipped in my strongest shoes, which, however, were not half strong enough; for the weather had been wet, and the roads were in about as bad a condition as possible for a walking expedition. Feeling the inadequacy of my equipments, I could not help admiring and envying my friend’s whole set-out. On presenting himself, you might see at a glance that you had to deal with an enthusiastic mountain pedestrian. Attired in a pair of knickerbockers, ribbed woollen stockings, and stout ankle boots, he carried a pole five and a half feet long, with a pike at one end and a hook at the other, calculated either to steady him on the acclivities, or to pull down the branch of a tree which he wished botanically to examine. Besides this formidable pike-staff, he carried a green-painted tin box, slung by a belt round his shoulder, as a receptacle for specimens of plants; while around his waist was another belt, bearing two leather sheaths, one containing a large knife, and the other a saw, both serviceable in his explorations. In his visits to the hills, as I learned, he does not burden himself with provender. Ordinarily, he is satisfied with a few oranges in his pocket, and a brown tobacco-pipe, which he has the knack of smoking while talking to you, holding the pipe adroitly between his teeth. It was in this guise that he proceeded to lead me to Cap Martin. Passing Carnolles and the last house in the western suburb, we left the main thoroughfare, and struck to the left, down a narrow road, dreadfully cut up with wheel-tracks, and environed by grounds, on which grew a forest of olive trees of considerable size, and evidently, from their appearance, of great antiquity. I had seen none so large elsewhere. According to tradition, many of these trees were upwards of a thousand years old, and such, in a qualified sense, is likely to be the case. Branches and part of the stem of the olive tree decay, but life remains in the roots and lower division of the trunk, from which new boughs spring time after time through a succession of ages. From these causes, while many of the trunks are rent in antiquated hollows, the mass of branches above are youthful and luxuriant. Such trees may command a degree of veneration from their age, but I cannot coincide in the notion of their beauty. Evidently the whole require frequent manuring around the roots. Old woollen rags, if they can be obtained, are used for the purpose. There is a belief that the Romans brought the olive from Palestine and introduced it into the country. Nowhere, as I have said, has it attained such a gigantic size as on the soil of Cap Martin.