38 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



from the water's presence. The truth is, 

 perhaps, that I do see it. 



High overhead a few barn swallows and 

 chimney swifts are scaling, each with happy- 

 sounding twitters after its kind. A jay 

 screams, but so far off as merely to empha- 

 size the stillness. Once in a while a song spar- 

 row pipes ; a cheerful, honest voice. When 

 there is nothing better to do I look at the 

 hardhack. The spiraeas are a fine set ; many 

 of them are honored in gardens ; but few are 

 more to my liking, after all, than this old 

 friend (and enemy) of my boyhood. Whether 

 it is really useful as an herb out of which to 

 make medicinal " tea " I feel no competency 

 to say, though I have drunk my share of the 

 decoction. It is not a virulent poison: so 

 much I feel reasonably sure of. Hardhack, 

 thoroughwort, and pennyroyal, with the o 

 left out, these were the family herbalist's 

 trinity in my day. Now, in these better 

 times of pellets and homo3opathic allopathy, 

 children hardly know what medicine-taking 

 means. We remember, we of an older gen- 

 eration. " Pinch your nose and swallow it, 

 and I will give you a cent." Does that 



