150 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



way we have been following descend the hill to a marshy 

 bottom, the joe-pyeweed, iron weed, milkweed, and lowly 

 grass of Parnassus are to be found in the moist places. 

 Sheltered by a hedge or thicket, the cardinal flower hides 

 its glowing color of warmest red. It may be that one of 

 the late lilies, the red lily of the meadow or the saucy 

 Turk's-cap, rises from its sword-shaped lances of green 

 and, did one care to penetrate the marsh, there are the 

 modest water-liking mallows, the bed straw, jewel weed, 

 and other plants that seek the cool black earth. 



Crowded in the fence corners, wild blackberry brambles 

 set their thorns against intruders, and here are the climb- 

 ing vines, a mass of wild vetches, and an army of blue 

 harebells that dare not take to the open road. 



Up hill and down winds the highway, bordered on 

 either side with August wild flowers shut off from the 

 fields. These are the heralds of autumn, snatching the 

 hues from the sky and sunset west. And truly it seems 

 that "earth 's crammed with heaven, and every common 

 bush afire with God, a conflagration of color." 



