STRAI l"N 



SPRING Wll.n FLOW 



.vs 



Bloodroot. 



up and over that hill in some secret place of the woods there might 

 be for ought I knew a fairy grotto and troops of fairies led by 

 Titania may have danced up and down this grassy path on spring 

 moonlight nights ; may perhaps have sown the seeds of the flowers 

 so in due time to enjoy them. The cut bono question began to 

 puzzle me early in my wild flower pursuit and has puzzled me all 

 the way on (Darwin not being the least relief to me) and of the 

 many solutions I have given myself this first one suits me as well as 

 any. For in a way I believe in fairies. Who am I that I should set 

 limits to the creative power and will of the Author and Giver of all 

 good things, denying the existence of what I cannot comprehend 

 and see ' By day and by night everywhere from the farthest star 

 on the outskirts of the universe to the tiniest mosses on which I 

 tread I know there is life, life, life, and the varieties are as infinite 

 as their Creator. Go on then imagining, Grimm, Anderson, poet, 

 story teller, whoever you are, all the new phases of life you will, 

 you never can approach the reality. 



By the end of May the lilies of the field and mountain (though 

 they toil not nor spin) blazed out splendidly, the former nodding, 

 the latter looking the midday sun straight in the face and that is 

 doubtless why they blushed so scarlet. This mountain lily stood 



