



3a!fodils that come 

 before the swal- 

 low dares 



It is a joyous message that comes to us all at 

 daffodil time ; a message that, in spite of its 

 repetition \-eai- by )'ear, is always delightful, 

 always new. It tells us the gladsome tidings of 

 passing winter and glorious awakening spring ! We 

 hear and see it in all around ; in the twittering of 

 the birds ; the tassels on the hazel twigs ; and in 

 the bursts of pale, fitful sunshine through the leaden 

 cloudy skies. 



The little golden stars of the celandine are peeping 

 out in sheltered corners on the hedge-banlcs ; in the gardens the 

 snowdrops and winter aconite are showing their faces through the 

 And take 'the winds melting of the suow — if, indeed, we have had an\' snow, but it is much 

 uty. more likely they awake from their long sleep to a drear}- and bleak 



greyness characteristic of winter in our 

 vagarious climate. 



On this bright morning the grc\ness is 

 passing away ; the sun is high, and rapidh- 

 gaining power in a sk\- of cold, tender blue ; 

 and what a joy it is to wander round those 

 still somewhat soddened walks in the garden, 

 and note our old favourites of happ)- spring- 

 time coming into their own once more ! 



Snowdrops and scillas are swinging their 

 white and blue bells to the breeze ; tulips and 

 hyacinths are bursting through the sod ; in 

 these clumps of grey-green spikes of the 

 daffodil, a big stout-looking bud shows here 

 and there, needing only a little warmth from 

 the golden sunshine to burst forth into a 



