Scotland's Flowers, 309 



the doom of exile from the scenes and friends of youth. 

 They cannot agree, in these days, where a man's soul is, 

 much less where it is going ; let search be made for it 

 close, very close, to the roots of that ache. It is not 

 far away from the centre which colors the stream of 

 man's life. 



Many times to-day, in the exhilaration of the 

 moment, one or another enthusiastic member called 

 out, " What do ye think o' Scotland noo ? " and even 

 Emma had to confess in a half-whisper that England 

 was nothing to this. Perry and Joe had never been 

 beyond the border before, and gave in their adhesion 

 to the verdict — there is no place like Scotland. " Right, 

 Perry ! " ' 



We have never seen that paragon of grace, the 

 Scottish bluebell, in its glory till now. It is not to be 

 judged in gardens, for it is not in its element there ; but 

 steal upon it in the glen and see how it goes to your 

 heart. Truly I think the Scotch are the best lovers of 

 flowers, make the most of them, and draw more from 

 them than any other people do. This is a good sign, 

 and may be adduced as another proof that the race has 

 a tender, weak spot in the heart to relieve the hard 

 level head with which the world credits them. 



Whew! Thermometer 53° during the night, the 

 coldest weather experienced during our journey. But 

 how invigorating ! Ten years knocked off from the age 

 of every one of us since we got among the hills, except- 



