SPRING 85 



violet and the trailing mayflower. And 

 whatever I found, or did not find, at the end 

 of the way, I should have made another as- 

 cent of the dear old Notch road, every rod 

 of it the pleasanter for happy memories. I 

 had never traveled it in May, with the 

 glossy-leaved clintonia yet in the bud, and 

 the broad, grassy golf links above the Pro- 

 file House farm all frosty with houstonia 

 bloom. And many times as I had been 

 over it, I had never known till now that 

 rhodora stood along its very edge. To-day, 

 with the pink blossoms brightening the 

 crooked, leafless, knee-high stems, not even 

 my eyes could miss it. Our one small pear- 

 leaved willow, near the foot of Hardscrabble, 

 was in flower, its maroon leaves partly grown. 

 Well I remembered the June morning when 

 I lighted upon it, and the interest shown by 

 the senior botanist of our little company when 

 1 reported the discovery, at the dinner table. 

 He went up that very afternoon to see it for 

 himself ; and year after year, while he lived, 

 he watched over it, more than once caution- 

 ing the road-menders against its destruction. 

 How many times he and I have stopped be- 



