THE STORY OF A GARDEN 1 57 



birds and warblers; and straggling 

 away from them is the common brake, 

 alike of roadside, marsh, or clearing. 



Beyond in the moist dell, where a 

 hundred or two red-gold flower spikes 

 glow, is a transplanted stranger, the 

 barbaric yellow-fringed orchid of the 

 sea-gardens, now quite at home, and its 

 insect friends have found it, so that it 

 seeds as freely as in its native marsh. 



Another of the orchid tribe flourishes 

 under the maples, the large yellow 

 cypripedium, called in France, le Soulier 

 de Notre Dame ; and in a dozen places, 

 the little tway-blade, in June, throws 

 up its purple-green flowers. 



Watch the birds flutter and bathe on 

 the flat shelving stones! Some evi- 

 dently take a dozen baths a day. The 

 great iridescent frogs swim lazily and 

 the dragon-flies dart and flash; a tired 

 dog, following a wagon on the highway. 



