266 THE ELDER. 



may, in some way or other, become inoculated with its 

 antidotes. I have never suffered in the least degree from 

 it, though I have passed a considerable part of my life- 

 time in the forest. Catesby mentions a fact, which he 

 says was well attested, of an Indian who daubed himself 

 with the juice of the purple bindweed, and then handled 

 a rattlesnake with his naked hands with impunity. Some 

 high authority may be quoted to sustain any similar im- 

 probable fact or absurd opinion. 



THE ELDER. 



EVERYBODY is familiar with the Elder, with its large 

 corymbs of white flowers, hanging over ditches and water- 

 courses, rivalling the linden in sweetness and equalling 

 the balm in its healing virtues. It is common in all wet 

 fallows, flowering in the latter part of June. No shrub is 

 so generally known, both as a tenant of the fields and as 

 an ingredient in the packages of the simpler. We have 

 seen its dried flowers in nice paper bags, neatly done up 

 by some benevolent hands for the benefit of the sick, 

 and we breathed their odors as they were wafted from 

 the vessel in which they were steeped, before we ever 

 saw them in the fields. The Elder is one of the flower- 

 ing shrubs that first attracts our attention after the blos- 

 soms of the orchard have faded. The bee is seen to 

 hunt for it before the vine is in blossom, leaving the 

 flowers of the garden for these abundant stores of native 

 sweets. In autumn we have seen the fences and brook- 

 sides laden with its fruit, while the purple clusters were 

 stripped day after day by the robin and catbird, until not 

 one was left to fall to the ground. When the leaves are 

 gone, the branches are sought by children, who use its 

 hollow wood for making various juvenile implements. 



