O F W I L 1) F L \V E R S 



wort, beloved by the bees, and the small modest half-flowering 

 stalks of the self-heal found their way to this patch of wildness, and 

 nearer the water the jewel-weed chatted gaily with the Oswego tea, 

 while the bur marigold whispered airy nothings to her neighbor the 

 butterfly-weed. 



In only one spot did the starry campion show herself, and then 

 only in a tentative, half-hearted manner as if she were looking 

 around to see if she liked the place. We left her severely alone, 

 only protecting her from onslaughts, and now every August we 

 have a good group of the delicate bell-like flowers, very near our 

 hooded entrance. The spikenard is another discovery. It shrinks 

 from sunlight, but give it a shady corner, a damp, narrow bit of 

 ground against a wall, and it puts forth great beautiful leaves in 

 drooping, graceful sprays, and large clusters of delicate white blos- 

 soms which later turn to tiny berries beloved by all the birds. 



We have none of the laurel family indigenous here, no rhodo- 

 dendron or azalea or partridge berry or cranberry or wintergreen. 

 \Ve have not even the ox-eyed daisy or moss pink or sabbatia or 

 milkwort or blue vervain. The trailing arbutus grows in this State, 

 there are legends that it used to flourish in these woods, but too 

 immy young students, during too many springtimes, had eagerly 

 plucked it up by the roots "for teacher" or idly carried it home for 

 a brief life in water. We mean to make it grow again if possible. 

 We did succeed in carrying it through one winter by covering it 



with glass, but the next year it died. A friend has sent us some 



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