i8o THE BROOK BOOK 



that the jewel -weed had troubles of its own. 

 Straggling over it, clutching at its most ambitious 

 branches, were tangled ropes of yellow dodder. 

 Twisting and writhing, reaching out its long naked 

 arms to seize some new support, this uncanny, 

 orange-colored parasite seemed to have gained sad 

 supremacy even over the successful jewel-weed. 

 I like better the pretty pink-flowered bindweed. 

 Its luxuriant leafage and twining habit have noth- 

 ing of the cruel throttling ways of the dodder. 

 The bindweed — pretty wild convolvulus — creeps 

 over the trees, gently covering their bare trunks 

 with shining foliage ; or, running out toward the 

 light on a slender branch, it hangs gracefully sway-- 

 ing over the water. Virginia creeper has similar 

 ways and is much lauded for clothing the trunks 

 and branches of dead trees with its draperies of 

 green. When the autumn changes this green to 

 hues of red and brown our praise knows no 

 bounds. I have seen nothing half so splendid 

 over the verandas of houses as these wild, untrained 

 creepers along Clear Brook. 



Step carefully now and keep to the beaten 

 path. If you know yourself to be susceptible, 

 you would better turn back or go round some 

 other way. Gather your skirts close about you 

 and make ready to skip nimbly, for here we must 

 run the gauntlet between hundreds of plants of 

 poison ivy. Who, in passing, does not give this 

 plant a rub, metaphorically speaking? Naturalists 

 have done their best to wreak vengeance upon it 

 by branding its triple leaves with the "skull and 



