A MIDSUMMER OUTING. 



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eral impressions are all that one should aim at, 

 and not fret if many a flower or bird should es- 

 cape notice. When it is ninety in the shade, it 

 is well to carry even a light load of thoughts. 

 Lilies and yarrow, for instance, are enough for a 

 hot July morning, and I am quite content to have 

 further details go to those botanists, fearful bores, 

 who 



" Love not the flower they pluck, and know it not, 

 And all their botany is Latin names." 



Probably there was waving lizard-tail; I 

 know there was purple milkweed ; but if there 

 were a host of lesser growths, it availed nothing. 

 I was seated in a bit of shade, and from my cozy 

 nook looked out, at my leisure, upon acres of lil- 

 ies ; and when their fiery tints proved too bright 

 for such a day, I refreshed my sight by turning 

 to the yarrow, on my left, or that daintiest of 

 blooming shrubs, tall meadow-rue. Is this too 

 objectless a way to spend the summer ? Should 

 an outing have higher aims ? Various comments 

 that reach me imply that view, but I enter a plea 

 for such laziness. Whoso contemplates a flower 

 logically, and sees not only it, but all that it 

 represents, has given his brain but little rest, 

 though he may never have moved a finger. A 

 fig for the loud-mouthed chatter of non-product- 

 ive busy-bodies ! 



It was not long before the fact became evi- 

 14 



