VII 

 S-weet Pogonias and Lixnodonjms 



Come bring me wild pinks from the valleys, 



Ablaze with the fire o' the sun — 

 No poor little pitiful lilies 



That speak of a life that is done ! 



A1.1CE Gary, Be Still. 



ON June 26th we drove over to Thompson's 

 Trout Pond. We took the old flat-bottomed 

 boat, and with one slab board for a paddle, 

 steered slowly over the whole surface of 

 the lake, — a beautiful, clear little mountain mirror, with 

 good-sized fish swimming about. I searched along the 

 shores for the long-desired Purple-Fringed Orchises, 

 but still without success. Fleur-de-lis grew abundantly 

 about the lake; and in the little dents and bays among 

 the sedges and cat- tails, I found the Yellow Spatter- 

 Dock or Cow-Iyily {^NymphcBo) , so named in the time of 

 Christ by the ancient herbalist, Dioscorides, who first 

 gave it the Greek name Blephara, and later, in Latin, 

 Ny^nphcsa lutea and Nenuphar citrinwn. It was known 

 in England in 1500 as Yellow Nenuphar or. Water Lily. 

 The swamp birds are tame and saucy here. Pad- 

 dling our boat into the reedy shores among the alder 

 bushes, where they were nesting, they seemed to take 



83 



