68 FLOWER-FIELDS OF ALPINE SWITZERLAND 



grass-grown grit and rubble ; rich ousy dips and 

 hollows ; undulating acres of wavy, feather-light 

 meadows — all were decked alike in such kaleido- 

 scopic abundance as forced me repeatedly to 

 exclaim : " Oh that some of this loveliness could be 

 translated as fields to England ! If only England 

 would try ! " 



Here I must beg leave to make a slight di- 

 gression from the strictness of my subject. At 

 one spot in the steep descent, just outside the 

 tiny hamlet of Prassorny, I came upon a blaze 

 of colour which stood out from all else — a pre- 

 eminently arresting object in the landscape. It 

 was, of all things, our old friend the scarlet Field 

 Poppy ! To come upon this inimitable flower 

 spread in serried numbers over a large square of 

 ground on a steep slope at an altitude of over 

 4,000 feet, was not a little surprising. Waving 

 its battalions of fiery blossoms against the grey 

 mist-filled valley beneath, with old sim and wind- 

 stained chalets standing just beside, it was an 

 irresistible motif for a painter. Seemingly as 

 much at home as in any field in England, it 

 appeared of even greater brilliance than with 

 us — having, perhaps, caught something of the 

 humour of the Gentian. That this Poppy can 



