44 ALONG THE WATERWAYS 



of smaller ponds from the highway. Truly, Time 

 o' Year's own waterway is infinitely varied. On 

 the sunny edge of these woods grew bushes of 

 white Swamp Azalea, the flowers, almost past their 

 prime, giving a perfume more heavily sweet than 

 that of the Button-bush. 



This Azalea being, like its sister, the Pinxter 

 Flower, a shrub, its blossoms may be kept in water 

 several days if they are picked before they fully ex- 

 pand, which is the case with most of our native 

 shrubs, of dry or moist lands, provided their stems 

 are wrapped in wet cotton as soon as cut, and an 

 additional bit taken from the stalk when it is finally 

 placed in water. 



The first two ponds were close together, only 

 divided by an old dam, which had long since fallen 

 inward, stone by stone, and, catching the spring 

 drift of soil, had turned to a flower-covered dyke. 

 The near-by margin of the lower pond was fur- 

 rowed, and the ground felt oozy to the tread for 

 several yards above the water's edge. The oppo- 

 site bank was abrupt and rocky, while under it the 

 water held reflections of trees and the lazy clouds 

 of the summer sky. 



Time o' Year halted, spread out his hands as if 

 giving a blessing, and said briefly: 



