Vlll INVITATION 



in your stateliest jar. Anemones hang their heads 

 and the Blue Gentian closes its "fringed eye- 

 lids " on leaving home. 



The flower in its haunt is a part of the 

 landscape, a tint on nature's palette not to be 

 heedlessly removed. The great patches of red 

 and gold Samphire are the glory of the autumn 

 marshes; plucked, they are but leafless plants of 

 curious structure, chiefly valued in their green 

 state by the natives for pickling. 



Perchance you are a botanist, knowing all plants 

 by name and attribute, apt in Latin and techni- 

 calities; have you ever in a purely friendly sense 

 visited the flowers and ferns in their haunts ? I 

 do not mean, have you gone in search of a 

 particular plant that you wished to study, trans- 

 ferred it triumphantly to your vasculum; toiled 

 over it patiently and finally stowed it away with 

 its life pressed out, though very neatly labeled. 

 This sort of acquaintance is that of the reporter 

 with the person he must of necessity interview to 

 gain special information, the other the after friend- 

 ship of those between whom the door is never 

 closed. 



