AN ALIEN FROM EUROPE. 149 



of cows, its stems lose, to some extent, their 

 power of crowding out and smothering, and the 

 weeds, ill -smelling though handsome, have come 

 to excel. Among thum the dog-fennel or May 

 weed ranks first in numbers. Each year they 

 spring up and hold their own, starring the mar- 

 gins of the pathways with their yellow crowns 

 and white rays. Scraping the mud from the 

 swine which hurry past, trampled many times 

 by the slow-moving kine, though mud-bedaubed 

 and broken in stem, they succeed in ripening 

 their seeds and perpetuating their race. An 

 alien from the byways of Europe, it succeeds 

 where many of our native weeds would fail, 

 mainly by its properties of perseverance and 

 stubbornness of spirit. 



On the slope before me, leading down to the 

 streamlet's brim, the partridge berry and the 

 ground ivy trail, both past their blossoming tide, 

 yet with foliage worth more than passing notice. 

 Close to the earth they cling, concealing its 

 otherwise bare surface and gathering unto them- 

 selves and commingling in their cells some of its 

 earthy odor. The ivy begins to bloom early in 



