In the Dog-Day s: 1898 147 



whisper in the spruces and the hemlocks, &quot; the 

 poetry of earth is never dead.&quot; 



But woods and fields are feeling the warnings of 

 fall. How the golden-rods colour the pastures 

 and the roadsides, some five or six varieties being 

 in full bloom now ; while the cone flowers yet 

 linger, and will for a long time ; and the superb 

 butterfly-weed is yet crowded with its clouds of 

 cinnamon-coloured butterflies, and the joe-pye 

 lifts its wealthy pinkish-purple corymbs high over 

 the moist brooksides where it loves to dwell. The 

 cardinal flower now bends its stately panicles over 

 the very edges of the mountain streams, and splen 

 did in colour as it is, it bears the modest air of 

 retirement. Now also the lobelias are plenty in 

 various habitudes, and the parsley tribe riots in 

 meadows and roadsides and marshy tracts, from 

 Queen Anne s Lace to water hemlock and the 

 heracleums and the archangelicas, though the 

 former of those giant parsleys is past its blooming 

 and in fruit, like the poison carrot. In the open 

 and sunny marshes now the arrowhead is in its 

 finest condition, and few years see such great 

 blossoms of sagittaria as this year discloses. This 

 is emphatically the season of the mints, and bee- 

 balm in the gardens, and occasionally in stray 

 nooks where once there have been gardens, calls 

 to the lilac, bergamot, the paler, tall pennyroyal 



