128 A NOVEMBER CHRONICLE. 



unexpectedly upon a field fairly yellow with 

 fall dandelions and silvery cinque-foils, and 

 affording also my only specimens of bur- 

 dock, Canada thistle, cone-flower, and the 

 smaller evening -primrose; in addition to 

 which were the many-flowered aster, yar- 

 row, red clover, and sow thistle. In truth, 

 the grassy hillside was quite like a garden, 

 although there was no apparent reason why 

 it should be so favored. The larger even- 

 ing-primrose, of which I saw two stalks, one 

 of them bearing six or eight blossoms, was 

 growing among the rocks just below the 

 edge of the cliff, in company with abun- 

 dance of sow thistle, all perfectly fresh ; 

 while along the gravelly edge of the bank, 

 just above them, was the groundsel (Sene- 

 cio vulgari9)i looking as bright and thrifty 

 as if it had been the first of August instead 

 of near the middle of November. 



Perhaps my most surprising bit of good 

 luck was the finding of the Deptford pink. 

 Of this, for some inscrutable reason, one 

 plant still remained green and showed sev- 

 eral rosy blossoms, while all its fellows, far 

 and near, were long since bleached and 

 dead. Fortune has her favorites, even 







