THE FLOWERS OF SPRING 21 



surrounding. One who has been abroad, rod in 

 hand, can never afterward separate the spring 

 celandine from the flushed stream, such as we 

 have at that season, the long shadows, the pink 

 and black spots of the newly-landed trout, and 

 all the fresh emotions attending the first cast and 

 catch after a winter's fast. 



It is known as Wordsworth's flower. Had he 

 been an enthusiastic angler we could have under- 

 stood the choice, because, for reasons just stated, 

 all the members of the fraternity are disposed to 

 appraise it beyond its merits. But being only an 

 unattached admirer in search of beauty, the pre- 

 ference is more puzzling. He expressed his 

 admiration in a sonnet which I would rather not 

 quote. The Ayrshire poet moralised over the 

 daisy, and Tennyson had the taste to follow so 

 good an example. The Westmoreland poet must 

 needs moralise over something else. I question 

 whether the reputation, either of flower or poet, is 

 very much bettered thereby. 



The place of the fading celandine is filled by the 

 anemone. Beginning with a pink bud, it opens 

 into a white flower. It has a tendency to grow in 

 patches, netted by underground stolons. The 

 delicately cut foliage is in itself a delight. It is 



