204 AUTUMN "WILD FLOWEKS. 



The reign of summer is at an end, and there follows, 

 as Shirley Hibberd puts it, " the sweet, melancholy, 

 soothing, plaintive autumn, ' like the quiet cadences of 

 a hushed heart.' " You may hear the chirp of the 

 robin, but the sweet-songed birds of spring are silent. 

 The bright-eyed flowers are drooping, and in their 

 stead the ruddy haws, golden crabs, and scarlet hips 

 peep forth as they lose the shelter of the dropping 

 leaves. Seeds are ripening. The woods are starred 

 with golden red, and are full of the tall foliage and 

 pods of bygone flowers. The hedgerows are choked 

 with nettles, mints, and other labiate flowers. The 

 larger flowers are all of a golden or purple hue. The 

 hawkweeds stud the wayside, the harebell swings to and 

 fro, and the autumnal crocus blooms in the meadow. 

 By the river-side the willow herbs still linger. The 

 large ox-eye daisy nods to us from the parched ground. 

 The rich pheasant's-eye glances brilliantly from the 

 ripening corn, and we may find the thread-like spurrey 

 and the wild mignonette. As we approach the ruined 

 wall, we shall find that 



" Here the dull nightshade hangs her deadly fruit ; 

 On hills of dust the henbane's faded green 

 And pencilled flower of sickly hue is seen." 



