June 



XLVIII 



THE flurry of spring has settled down to the affluent 



fruition of full summer-tide. Intense heat in May has 



j,^ made up the leeway caused by what will be 



summer- talked of for many years to come as the 

 severest winter on record that of 1894-5. 

 Even the ash has found it incompatible with decency 

 to remain naked any longer; and as for the oaks, by 

 Royal Oak Day (May 29) not one king only, but a 

 whole dynasty might have sheltered unseen in the 

 branches of any tree of moderate size. 



The meadows beside the Itchen have taken a more 

 varied hue, less brilliant than spring verdure, but more 

 richly jewelled. The most princely flower there is the 

 sceptred flower-de-luce, which in heraldic lore vies 

 with the oak as the emblem of rule. But the most 

 delicate masterpiece of the marsh at this season is the 

 lowlier buckbean (Menyantkes trifoliata), with pink 

 buds and exquisitely fringed blossoms of pearly white, 

 growing in company with sapphire brooklime and 

 turquoise forget-me-not. The buckbean belongs to the 

 Gentian family, and possesses the bitter properties of 



