ALONG THE HILLSBOROUGH. 81 
house wren, chattering at a great rate 
among the “ bootjacks ” (leaf-stalks) of an 
overturned palmetto-tree, with an occasional 
mocking-bird, cardinal grosbeak, prairie 
warbler, yellow redpoll, myrtle bird, ruby- 
crowned kinglet, phoebe, and flicker. In 
short, there were no birds at all, except now 
and then an accidental straggler of a kind 
that could be found almost anywhere else in 
indefinite numbers. 
And as it was not the presence of birds 
that made the river road attractive, so nei- 
ther was it any unwonted display of blos- 
soms. Beside a similar road along the 
bank of the Halifax, im Daytona, grew mul- 
titudes of violets, and goodly patches of pur- 
ple verbena (garden plants gone wild, per- 
haps), and a fine profusion of spiderwort, 
—a pretty flower, the bluest of the blue, 
thrice welcome to me as having been one of 
the treasures of the very first garden of 
which I have any remembrance. “ Indigo 
plant,’ we called it then. Here, however, 
on the way from New Smyrna to Hawks 
Park, I recall no violets, nor any verbena 
or spiderwort. Yellow wood-sorrel (oxalis) 
was here, of course, as it was everywhere. 
