104 THROUGH THE FIELDS WITH LINNAEUS 



delicate young growth of willow branches, that smell 

 like honey, attracts the bees ; the ants creep and fly, all 

 hurrying to the well-spread breakfast of the year, in 

 the opening of spring. The richer, fuller autumn meal 

 is more like the courses of a heavy dinner. The large 

 families of rooks, the elegant water-wagtail, the wren 

 (that miniature fowl), the tree-creeper, the yellow- 

 hammer, how they all fly to the feast so bountifully 

 spread, while the cuckoo sings l Amen ' to the grace ! 

 The great wide table is all flower-bedecked ; here are 

 flowers blue, pink, red, and lilac, all on one stem, a kind of 

 bugloss, but growing more like a forget-me-not ; I know 

 the sort of plant, but this is a new variety to me ; here 

 are the speedwell, and that purple geranium that one of 

 our great watercolour painters calls the ' most flower- 

 like of flowers.' The tender pale yellow of the young 

 robinia, is it ? no, it is a strange plant faintly tinged 

 as if grown in the dark, expands its upper shoots in 

 golden green, forming the choicest contrast with the 

 purple of the distant pines. 



Which is the more exquisite, the sapphire or the 

 turquoise, the hue of sea or sky ? Both tints enhance 

 the enjoyment of this delicious view, centred by the 

 little blushing red-tiled town of Borgholm glowing like 

 a cornelian as seen from above the oak-woods that 

 creep clustering up the hill slopes, with undergrowth of 

 hawthorn and wild rose, the white-lace veil of the black- 

 thorn, and in the grass many flowers, new friends to me. 

 A little purply grey, hairy, downy flower with six 



