THE FLOWERS OF MAY. I4I 
thickly as an English or Scottish moorland with the 
purple heather, and leaving as attractive memories. It 
belongs now to the long ago, yet it-helps me to appre- 
ciate Tennyson’s feeling for the sweet violet: 
“The smell of violets hidden in the green 
Poured back into my empty soul and frame 
The times when I remembered to have been 
Joyful and free from blame.” 
But while I have been tarrying with the violets the 
long procession of the vernal flowers has been moving 
forward. What a pleasure, to welcome them again on 
their brief annual visit! How unique is the appearance 
of the forest when putting on its spring dress! The pale 
green of the poplars now shows afar, the dark pines are 
losing that prominence which makes them so marked a 
feature of the winter woods, the variety of tints in the 
plaited foliage combines to present an appearance seen 
at no other time of the year, and seen now in its perfec- 
tion only when illumined by the bright rays of the sun 
nearing the horizon. It is interesting to watch the 
characteristic tints of the spring foliage change under 
the bright sunlight of late May and June into the more 
nearly uniform color of midsummer, and so remain un- 
til the ripening days of autumn again bring out charac- 
teristic colors. 
