SPRING-SUMMER OF THE ALPS 101 



or eight thousand feet, suffering nightly incarceration 

 in ice without their good looks of daytime being in 

 the least impaired. Colt's-foot, which we saw in late 

 February, is here just coming into blossom with our 

 geraniums of June and mezereon of January. Then 

 the tall globe-flower, handsomest of buttercups, floods 

 certain pastures with its golden balls, side by side 

 with infrequent rock-rose, cinquefoil, bird's-foot, tre- 

 foil, and a few others of the yellow persuasion. And, 

 as though to make up for the lack of other flowers of 

 the colour, a species of Alpine violet is brightest 

 yellow. A primrose, on the other hand, has chosen 

 a very pretty pink for its colour. It bears its blossom 

 on a stalk polyanthus-wise, and each petal is deeply 

 cut till it resembles that of a campion. We should 

 give this little Primula viscosa the palm for dainty 

 beauty, even among the floral glories of our snow-clad 

 mountains. 



Most of the lower slopes of our Alps, however 

 steep, are claimed by the industrious Swiss as 

 meadows. The clashing torrent is tapped at points 

 in its wild descent, and sent zigzagging in gentle 

 rivulets across and across the slopes. On the right 

 day the channels are opened, and slopes that have 

 been dry all the winter are watered at the roots. Up 

 comes the whole medley of flowers that do duty for 

 grass, and the rich ranks of which will be laid twice 

 in heavy, odorous swathe before the summer ends. 

 Wild rhubarb follows the wettest lines ; lilies, ane- 

 mones, and strange purple grape-hyacinths, with vivid 

 heads of long, aimless filaments, jostle one another 

 without the intervention of grass. Geraniums, cam- 

 pions, and vetches revel together without the faintest 



