56 ALPINES AND BOG-PLANT'S 
way. And their bleeding is a symptom of annoyance too, 
for Sanguinaria hates being moved and cut about and 
worried. Give him a quiet corner under some deciduous 
tree, and he will increase perpetually and multiply, send- 
ing up early in April his pretty rounded leaves, veined, and 
glaucous grey (they are, I do believe, the prettiest of all 
leaves in nature; like a vine’s, but rounder, more regular, 
and smooth), and then, even before they are unfolded, 
expanding his large snowy flowers, like nothing so much: 
as a pure white Celandine on a stalk about six or eight 
inches high. 
Of the other Poppyworts I have little experience. 
‘The Big Celandine is a weed in the upper valley of my 
Old Garden; and the Jeffersonias, Stylophorums, and 
Chelidoniums, or whatever you like to call them, have 
never hitherto appealed to me very strongly, though I 
weakened towards Stylophorum japonicum when I saw 
him blooming abundantly with Anemone trifola in the 
mountain copses on the way up from Nikko to Nantai- 
San. But even Stylophorum japonicum is, after all, only 
a glorified Chelidonium majus, brilliant in flower, but rather 
plebeian in growth. As for that common Japanese weed, 
the gigantic plume-Poppy Bocconia cordata—well, it is a 
weed here, too—and, for all its stately splendour, I 
regret ever having admitted it, or any of its kind. 
But the essential glory of the Poppy family is Meco- 
nopsis, a race scattered most of the world over, but con- 
centrating its efforts in the Himalya. Our own country 
has one, though, the delightful little Welsh Poppy, 
which no one can be stern enough to keep out of the 
rock-garden, although he knows how soon he will deplore 
his laxity. For the Welsh Poppy is a dreadful weed ; 
but then he is so very fascinating, and when the worst 
comes to the worst, he is an easy plant to cope with. You 
can grub him up fairly easily ; and, however thick your 
