310 VOICES FKOM THE WOODLANDS. 



of me. " That tree," he said, ' will remind you of your 

 brother when he is gone, for there is no other like it in the 

 county. I have often nutted on the bank, and gathered 

 water-cresses from beside the stream, and I shall like to 

 know that my arbutus is growing there." Therefore it is, 

 that the sisters bring their work to this lone spot, and sit 

 beside the bank whereon I grow, and that, when my 

 crimson berries first ripened, they carried the small bunch 

 with exceeding delight to their mother. 



Observe my pitcher-shaped blossoms: they contain a sweet 

 juice. The bee cannot avail herself of their contents 

 because of their narrow necks, but all such insects as have 

 long trunks find in them a delicious repast. My blos- 

 soms, therefore, are the resort of many beautifully-attired 

 butterflies, gorgeous creatures that open and close their 

 wings in brilliant contrast to my dark-green leaves. The 

 bee, as I have already mentioned, rarely visits me : she 

 prefers my sister, the hospitable elder, or the hazel, profuse 

 of flowers. 



