52 A GARDEN OF PLEASURE 



an emerald, and the thrushes were loudly 

 rejoicing. The yews will smoke no more 

 after such heavy snow ! On bright after- 

 noons, chiefly during the earlier part of 

 the month, it was exactly as if smouldering 

 fires burnt within some of them so hidden 

 were they in clouds of smoke. There 

 must have been always a light breeze 

 stirring at the time ; yet the air would 

 mostly seem unusually still when this 

 smoke arose. And then, when it cleared 

 off, the yews were like * dusty millers/ 

 powdered over with pollen. One or two 

 of the younger yews (they never flower 

 profusely until they are many years older) 

 give ' the idea ' of bursting into fresh green 

 buds of spring all over them, at the points 

 of almost every twig. Buds, however, 

 they are not, only mischievous imitations ; 

 or a sort of gall made by insects (mites). 

 Nothing can be discovered by pulling 

 these buds to pieces ; at least, after minute 

 examinations, we have never been able 

 to find the insect inside. When the days 

 are warm and dry I have often worked 

 for an hour or so at one time, pulling off 



