BEES COURT THE CLOVER 109 



red. White clover's reign has given place to a new order 

 of summer time, and all nature is paying obeisance to 

 overblown blossoms of pale crimson. 



The delicate fragrance of flower petals that lingered 

 from the hours of June and culminated in the breath of 

 white clover has vanished in the presence of the tropical 

 odors of July in its prime. White-clover perfume is as 

 elusive as that arising from swinging censers above the 

 Virgin's shrine in Old World chapels, but red-clover fra- 

 grance has all the alluring qualities of the pungent scents 

 of sandalwood and Eastern spices. 



Well should nature lovers cry "All hail !" in the hour 

 of clover bloom, for these are the true aristocrats of the 

 pastures, and have climbed high in the scale of evolution. 

 The genuine thoroughbred, conscious that he is fittest to 

 survive, hates classification and analysis of his family in- 

 heritance. It is enough that he has selected admirable 

 qualities of each generation, as he has held his own in the 

 struggle for existence, and that he has been able to trans- 

 mit the best to his progeny. Why talk about it at all, say 

 they; why not fix all your powers to win over circum- 

 stance, and "make stepping-stones of our dead selves to 

 higher things'"? 



This is what the clover has done. The wee white 

 clover, with its thousands of creeping roots feeling their 

 way in the darkness and lifting the heavy soil to let sun- 

 light and air into the depths, scatters its gifts of nitrogen 



