THE FLOWERS OF SUMMER 67 



" They rob the land along the edge of the 

 field" 



As if everyone did not know that he manures 

 largely with old boots. Plainly, he has no belief 

 in such close proximity between utility and 

 beauty. 



One day, when the blossom is off and there is 

 nothing left to weaken his purpose, he will carry 

 out his threat. Some are fearfully looking 

 forward, while others say that his bark is worse 

 than his bite. After that, he will have many 

 a year to drive up a bare road. Serves him right ! 

 Possibly, he will not care, but that is all the more 

 his loss. 



The gateway to the farm has its summer arch. 

 The cream of the bourtree meets the white of the 

 rowan. Blossoms and scents mingle overhead. 



The hawthorn ought to flower on the first of 

 May, for which reason it has got the name of the 

 month. But that is in England, where everything 

 is earlier. 



" Oh, that was past before we came away." 



Such is the tantalising comment of our visitors 

 from the south ; while all is yet fresh to us, and, 

 in the innocence of our hearts, we are pointing 

 to the opening buds. 



