A Mountain Tulip. 177 



about path through the glen of Conway in order to 

 prevent an}' future intruder from retracing his steps 

 without me, and annexing for his own private aggran- 

 disement the pretty fiov.er whose life 1 have so chival- 

 rously and humanely spared. When we come to 

 learn the history of its race, I feel sure every one will 

 sympathise in the sentiment which makes me wish 

 to preserve this solitary colony of Alpine flowers as 

 long as possible from the desecrating hands of the 

 abandoned plant-collector. 



First, let us look exactly what manner of lily it 

 really is, and then v.e will go on to unravel together 

 the clues and tokens of its romantic history. See, it 

 is a little simple grass-like plant, sending forth from 

 its buried bulb two or three very slender blades by 

 way of leaves ; and from their midst springs a 

 graceful bending stem, surmounted by a single star- 

 shaped white blossom. At least, it looks white at 

 first sight, though when you come to examine it more 

 closely you can observe three red lines running down 

 the face of each petal, and converging on a small bright 

 golden spot at their base. Those lines are in fact 

 honey-guides for the mountain insects, pointing them 

 the shortest road to the sweets stored up in the 

 nectaries, and so saving them any extra trouble in 

 looking about for their morning's meal. On the other 



