72 NATUBE JSEAlt LONDON. 



linger beside the brook, but still it is pleasant to pass 

 by and remember the summer days. For the year is 

 never gone by; in a moment we can recall the 

 sunshine we enjoyed in May, the roses we gathered in 

 June, the first wheatear we plucked as the green corn 

 filled. Other events go by and are forgotten, and 

 even the details of our own lives, so immensely 

 important to us at the moment, in time fade from the 

 memory till the date we fancied we should never 

 forget has to be sought in a diary. But the year is 

 always with us ; the months are familiar always ; 

 they have never gone by. 



So with the red haws around and the rustling 

 leaves it is easy to recall the flowers. The withey 

 plantation here is full of flowers in summer ; yellow 

 iris flowers in June when midsummer comes, for the 

 iris loves a thunder-shower. The flowering flag 

 spreads like a fan from the root, the edges overlap 

 near the ground, and the leaves are broad as sword- 

 blades, indeed the plant is one of the largest that 

 grows wild. It is quite different from the common 

 flag with three grooves — bayonet shape — which 

 appears in every brook. The yellow iris is much 

 more local, and in many country streams may be 

 sought for in vain, so that so fine a display as may 

 be seen here seemed almost a discovery to me. 



They were finest in the year of rain, 1879, that 

 terrible year which is fresh in the memory of all who 

 have any interest in out-of-door matters. At mid- 

 summer the plantation was aglow with iris bloom. 

 The large yellow petals were everywhere high above 

 the sedge; in one place a dozen, then two or three, 



