9 6 



A BUSH CALENDAR 



happier times. On a little flat by the creek the sweet-scented 

 wattle had burst into bloom, and as I gathered its fragrant 

 spikes 1 rolled its name round my tongue. "Suaveolens," the 

 men of science call it, and for once they have found a happy 

 name. The word shapes itself softly and sweetly from the lips, 

 just as the flower breaks gently and deliciously from its full 

 round bud. Other wattles may show more riotous masses of 

 colour, but none is so sweet as this gentle plant, rearing a 

 slender grey stem above the undergrowth to bear a modest 

 head of creamy blossom, which delicately scents each passing 

 breeze. 



Underfoot the deep pink four- 

 petalled flower of tetratheca lent a 

 touch of colour to the grass, and 

 with it grew the little flannel flower, 

 which seems to bloom throughout the 

 year; here and there its larger 

 cousin put out a sickly bloom, miser- 

 ably unlike its summer crop. The 

 green-flowered five-corner was in 

 full bloom, and the red-blossomed 

 species was everywhere among the 

 rocks. This last is an unsatisfactory 

 little flower ; though its blossoms are 

 a charming colour, they always look 

 as if they were just going off. But 



TETRATHECA 



