220 THROUGH LIBRARY WINDOWS 



(honey-suckle), "Night-beauty" (evening 

 primrose), "Preacher" (Jack in the Pulpit), 

 "Jerusalem" (the wild yellow lily), sometimes 

 called the "Golden Candlestick," etc. How 

 well I remember the wild flower air, how sweet 

 and pungent its aroma and how subtle and per- 

 meating, how it used to thrill every sense ting- 

 ling to the tips of my being. Many a time have 

 I lain flat on the ground and looked earnestly 

 and long at the beautiful little flowers and won- 

 dered and wondered how they were made and 

 why, so many and so rich in endless variety, 

 fairly entranced with their beauty and fra- 

 grance, brain and heart hot with problems, not 

 yet solved but understood. So Tennyson 

 thought and felt and wrote, 



Flower in the crannied wall, 



I plucked you out of the crannies; 



1 hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 



Little flower — but if I could understand 



What you are, root and all, and all in all, 



I should know what God and man is. 



Bayard Taylor in one of his travel-books 

 speaks of the old Thuringian forester, who in 

 his boyhood was so happy in the beautiful sun- 

 light he did not know what to do with himself. 



