WAYFARERS 287 



turned inside out and wrecked. I tell yer, if yer 

 want to find some nice posies and good sniffin's by 

 the way, jest go up the Glen Road toward George- 

 town some day 'long 'n July. There 's Rose- 

 flowered Raspberries up there, settin' between the 

 rocks, and a strong-smellin' purple flower, that I 

 can't name, only to say it 's shaped like Bee Balm, 

 a-growin' along the fences the same as if a gar- 

 den of it had broke loose; and jest beyant there 's 

 a lot of yaller Wild Senna, flowers that look like 

 tall Pa'tridge Peas growin' in long bunches." 



Thus admonished, and being in that neighbor- 

 hood at the right time, we turned Nell into the 

 Glen Road, which, before entering the woods, ran 

 for a space between waste fields fenced by tumble- 

 down stone walls, with occasional openings guarded 

 by moss-grown chestnut or cedar bars, so long 

 disused that Wild Grapes and vines of climbing 

 Bittersweet or Waxwork were using them as 

 trellises. 



The wayside growth was luxuriant, and typical 

 of the season, but offered no novelties until the 

 eye, following the fence line, was arrested by a 

 flowery bank of unusual color, not blue, nor pur- 

 ple, exactly, but a pale combination of the two, a 

 sort of rosy suffusion blending with it. 



