60 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



appears in a field till the clover has had its day. 

 But the daisy with its slender stalk does not crowd 

 or obstruct the plant, while its broad white flower is 

 like a light parasol that tempers and softens the too 

 strong sunlight. Indeed, daisies and strawberries 

 are generally associated. Nature fills her dish with 

 the berries, then covers them with the white and 

 yellow of milk and cream, thus suggesting a combi- 

 nation we are quick to follow. Milk alone, after it 

 loses its animal heat, is a clod, and begets torpidity 

 of the brain; the berries lighten it, give wings to 

 it, and one is fed as by the air he breathes or the 

 water he drinks. 



Then the delight of "picking" the wild berries! 

 It is one of the fragrant memories of boyhood. In- 

 deed, for boy or man to go a-berrying in a cer- 

 tain pastoral country I know of, where a passer-by 

 along the highway is often regaled by a breeze loaded 

 with a perfume of the o'er-ripe fruit, is to get nearer 

 to June than by almost any course I know of. Your 

 errand is so private and confidential! You stoop 

 low. You part away the grass and the daisies, and 

 would lay bare the inmost secrets of the meadow. 

 Everything is yet tender and succulent; the very 

 air is bright and new; the warm breath of the 

 meadow comes up in your face; to your knees you 

 are in a sea of daisies and clover; from your knees 

 up, you are in a sea of solar light and warmth. Now 

 you are prostrate like a swimmer, or like a surf- 

 bather reaching for pebbles or shells, the white and 

 green spray breaks above you; then, like a devotee 



