TURTLE-HEAD AND JEWEL- WEED 133 



that glow of pale gold which must there suffuse 

 all things. To such tiny midges and beetles, 

 spiders and moths as may enter it must be like 

 walking about in the heart of the Tiffany yellow 

 diamond. The bumblebee might tell how it 

 seems in the turtlehead petal, if he knows. I 

 fancy, however, he is so everlastingly busy and 

 so mad with the filaments when he is inside that 

 he has no time to think of atmosphere. Often 

 the pure white of this flower is tinged with a soft 

 shading of delicate rose near the tip of the petal. 

 It is an unobtrusive shading, as shy as the bloom 

 itself. Ashes of roses might describe the tint 

 better, for it is as gentle as the fading pink of 

 a sunset sky, a shade that has dropped thence to 

 the lips of these blossoms hiding in the dusk of 

 the swamp. You see it best by looking close into 

 the very face of the flower as the bumblebee does 

 when about to alight on it, and I think it is set 

 there to show him the way. By the time he has 

 seen that, he is near enough to be drawn by the 

 faint but ravishing perfume which is breathed 

 out by the flower. It is so faint that you must 

 come like the bee to the very lip of the corolla be- 

 fore you Avill find it. It is so tender and of such 

 refinement that when once you get it you will 



