THE FLOWERS 



tober with the yellow splendor of a variety 

 of Coreopsis, whose flowers are so closely 

 clustered along the slender, wide-spreading 

 branches that there seems room for no more. I 

 know of no flower of a richer, more intense 

 color. It is like concentrated sunshine. It 

 always sets me thinking of the old legends of 

 the "Field of the Cloth of Gold." An old 

 swamp grown up to this flower is a gorgeous 

 sight to see when it is in full bloom. Stretch- 

 ing away over acre after acre on which nothing 

 else seems to grow, it lifts its golden disks in a 

 radiant air whose brightness seems diffused 

 from it, and the eye is dazzled by it as by 

 looking at the sun. 



IF, during September and often later, one 

 takes a stroll along the low banks of a creek 

 or river, or into swampy places where the soil is 

 of an alluvial or vegetable character, he is sure, 

 in many localities at the North, and very likely 

 at the South also, to come upon dense growths 

 of Celandine, not infrequently standing waist- 

 high in shady places, and looking fragile as 



frostwork almost with its half -transparent 



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