THE ODOR OF RED CLOVER. 19 



when the male gives up and, settling down in 

 the spot which his loved one has last vacated, 

 rests for a time his wearied wing muscles, be- 

 fore starting again after the elusive object of 

 his desires. 



From somewhere the odor of red clover, ever 

 welcome to my nostrils, is borne. It is, to me, 

 the most pleasing fragrance of the month of 

 June. It always brings to mind ripening wheat 

 and the firefly's glim a world of green and a 

 bright sun shedding its glory thereon. It causes 

 me to draw long inhalations, to inflate the nos- 

 trils and gather in greater volumes of the 

 scented air. 



Wherever it abounds the red clover is the sign 

 of progressive farming. It enriches the soil 

 more than any other known plant. It causes 

 the country fields to literally "blossom as the 

 rose." It bears its burden well, furnishing pas- 

 ture for summer's stock, hay for winter's feed- 

 ing and, above all, beauty and fragrance for the 

 true lover of nature. 



More than any one thing a clover field, in the 

 heart of June-time, begets in me a longing to be 



