WAYFARERS 283 



roads and looking over distant meadows whose 

 edges catch the rich wash of cultivated fields, close 

 hedges of Sweet Viburnum can be seen, making 

 natural fences suggestive of English Hawthorn. 



"I don't see how folks can get out o' takin' 

 notice o' posies, even if they never goes off turn- 

 pikes, or sets a foot out o' wagons," said Time o' 

 Year one day back in June, as he paused to chat 

 while he was crossing the Tree -bridge road a lit- 

 tle above the old cider mill. His buttonhole held 

 that morning a bunch of Wild Rosebuds, the 

 long green calyx -points fringing the carmine -pink 

 that peeped between, while as he spoke he pressed 

 with his foot the loosened soil about the roots of 

 a plant of yellow Hop Clover that had been partly 

 washed from its position on the roadbank. 



"Take jest common Clovers, now, not growin' 

 in fields for a crop, but strayed out by themselves 

 here along the road. There 's lots to see in 'em, 

 differences o' leaf and blossoms, and it must be 

 allowed few plants is so purty and neat and useful 

 all to onct. 



"What draws Clover along the edges o' the road 

 so? I reckon it 's the wash o' the road dung that 

 blows around and settles, and then the leaf ashes 



