WARRIORS OF SPRING 



THE annual tilting of the planet now makes our 

 part of it greener every day, but a close examination 

 shows that, so far, it is from the point of view of cow 

 or rabbit, snail or caterpillar, largely a delusive green- 

 ness. The very early flowers either come up without 

 leaves at all, or have their leaves in some way or 

 other protected from the attentions of the four-footed 

 and other vegetarians. The former plan makes the 

 floral display wonderfully effective, as testify our 

 railway embankments, even within the limits of 

 London proper. They are strewn with the pale 

 gold of colt's-foot, as though the nearly bladeless 

 gravel had received a shower of tiny stars from 

 heaven during the night. The colt's-foot bloom has 

 nothing to fear from the hunger of mortal enemies, 

 but its stalk and floral envelope are covered elabo- 

 rately with a thick down, well calculated to preserve 

 them from the violent alternations between midday 

 sunniness and the frost of midnight. The same can 

 be said of the first leaves of the yellow mullein now 

 crowding round the tall, bare spikes that lit candles 

 on the embankment last summer. Thicker felt you 

 cannot find in Nature than the spring leaves of 

 "Adam's flannel," though you will see that as 



