WILD PASTURES 



water keeps all growing things lush and 

 green, but the glare of the sun is only 

 the more intense. It follows you into 

 the alder swamp, and you may sit under 

 the arching fronds of the ostrich-plume 

 ferns in vain. 



But after you have scrambled through 

 them and ducked under the mock bene- 

 diction of the witch-hazel limbs that 

 stretch above your head while the witch- 

 hazel faces grin a cynical " Bless you, 

 my child," you feel that you are willing 

 to take your chances with swamp witch- 

 ery and brook magic. For in the glen 

 cool waters crisp over cold stones and 

 the breeze sighs up stream and fans 

 you as you sit on the brink of the pool 

 and lean your head against the ledge 

 from whose crannies drip the fairy 

 fronds of the rock fern. 



These are but little fellows of our 

 118 



