TO ADELAIDE BY TRAIN 37 



the list of first favourites. But with the exception of these 

 blossoms, and a few stray wattles, all the flowers that graced 

 the landscape there were introduced. Small red poppies lent 

 an English aspect to many a field to the owner's disgust, it 

 must be admitted. Irises, white and purple, were to be seen 

 at every passing stream, with clumps of arum lilies disputing 

 the position with them. Hawthorn bushes looked springlike 

 in their gowns of pink or white ; briar and hedge roses 

 sweetened the air with their fragrance, and amongst the hills 

 which are Adelaide's pride and beauty myriads of ixias, 

 white, yellow and red, grew wild along the railroad. These, 

 it is said, were introduced by a man who, every time lie went 

 through in the train, scattered handfuls of seeds and bulbs 

 from the window. The result is charming at present, though 

 the future may tell a different tale. 



And so I went by rail to Adelaide, not through dull, un- 

 interesting country, but through a world of wonder and beauty. 

 It is true that most of the way is over plain level ground but 

 that gives a better view of the distant hills, and of the wood- 

 decked streams that cross the path. It is true that wild 

 flowers are but weeds ; that foals and calves and lambs, young- 

 birds and butterflies are the commonplaces of every spring; 

 so is the sun the commonplace of every day but it 

 never loses its wonder. If the thought of snow-capped Alps 

 tropical forests, Italian lakes, and mighty canons, has blinded 

 you to the beauty of all else, then you may find the journey 



