THE LAP OF PROSEKPINE 117 



over the deeper green of her foHage are surpassed 

 in grace by few growing things. With her, too, comes 

 the daffodil — grown rarer as a wild flower of late 

 years. 



The elms have thickened overhead and shine out 

 with a warm ruddiness under pale skies. It is 

 good to escape from the sharp East wind in this 

 sunny rut of a lane ; for the sweet violets, both blue 

 and white, haunt the hedge-banks now ; the mouse- 

 ear chickweed is in bloom ; the rose and bramble 

 break into leaf, one green, one grey ; and the poten- 

 tilla's white, golden-eyed blossoms shine bravely. 

 Primroses on pink, downy stems open singly, in the 

 hollows the wood-spurge shines out on the hedge- 

 top, dog's-mercury shows its tassels, and the golden- 

 green saxifrage spreads her blossoms by the water. 

 The modest moschatel also blooms now — a tender 

 thing that raises its little closely-packed cluster of 

 blossoms from amidst stouter creatures of the way. 

 Daisies and lesser celandines gladden March and 

 scatter each lane with their silver and gold. 



There is busy nest-building forward too. Piles of 

 sticks swell aloft in the elms to clamorous chorus of 

 the dusky workmen ; scarcely a bird has an empty 

 bill. Round balls of hair and lichen grow on orchard 

 trees where the chaffinches design a home ; thrush 

 and blackbird plant their houses boldly in the arm 

 of any low dense bush, under an ivy-tod, or hard by 

 the budding bluebells of the hedge-bank. The robin 

 builds in holes, the starling and nuthatch in hollow 



