52 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



green leaves, holds up its rusty mace, 

 and grasses that twist about the 

 feet, ensnaring you, conceal the oozy 

 ground. 



At the first step the bindweed hold- 

 ing the grass by its spiral curves arrests 

 you, and lifts its rosy chalice. Beyond 

 are a bristling regiment of yellow 

 thistles with bayonets fixed, and be- 

 tween them, fiat on the soil, the star 

 grass shines. The great blue flag still 

 lingers, though long out of season, 

 beside wide mats of sundrops, the 

 diurnal mate of the paler evening 

 primrose. 



The ferns and brakes that border the 

 low woods thin into groups and mingle 

 with the swamp rose and blueberry. A 

 streak of lovely mauve on a closer view 

 reveals masses of calopogon, a flower 

 of the orchid's tribe, clustered on 

 slender stems; its hinging lips are 



