262 AN OWL'S HEAD HOLIDAY. 



diminutive hermits have ever done or suffered, 

 that they should choose thus to live and die, 

 each by itself, in the vast solitude of a moun- 

 tain forest ? 



It was already the middle of July, so that I 

 was too late for the better part of the wood 

 flowers. The oxalis (^Oxalis acetosella'), or 

 wood-sorrel was in bloom, however, carpeting 

 the ground in many places. I plucked a blos- 

 som now and then to admire the loveliness of 

 the white cup, with its fine purple lines and 

 golden spots. If each had been painted on 

 purpose for a queen, they could not have been 

 more daintily touched. Yet here they were, 

 opening by the thousand, with no human eye 

 to look upon them. Quite as common (Words- 

 worth's expression, " Ground flowers in flocks," 

 would have suited either) was the alpine en- 

 chanter's night-shade ( Circcea alpind) ; a most 

 frail and delicate thing, though it has little 

 other beauty. Who would ever mistrust, to 

 see it, that it would prove to be connected in 

 any way with the flaunting willow-herb, or fire- 

 weed ? But such incongruities are not confined 

 to the " vegetable kingdom." The wood-nettle 

 was growing everywhere ; a juicy-looking but 

 coarse weed, resembling our common roadside 

 nettles only in its blossoms. The cattle had 

 found out what I never should have surmised. 



