THE EARLY JULY FLOWERS. 197 
simple beauty: each is altogether lovely in its kind. 
Lake Winnipesaukee or Lake Memphremagog, girt 
round with mountains, is a thing of beauty and a joy 
forever to the lover of wild Nature, but the quiet nooks 
and wood-clad shores of Lake Quinsigamond have a 
charm also. 
Our love for home sights and sounds should be so 
great that familiarity cannot breed contempt. Is not 
the bluebird’s matin song, or the bobolink’s, as attrac- 
tive as the skylark’s or the nightingale’s, if we care to 
weave about it the romance which early association 
naturally arouses? It is pleasant, indeed, to sojourn 
for a time amid foreign scenes, ‘among new men, 
strange faces, other minds,” but that is not where we 
would wish to abide. The effect should be to make the 
home scenes all the dearer. After a day in the Royal 
Gardens at Kew where the treasures of the Palm House 
and the North Museum and the Winter Garden are a 
wonder to see, I find I can still take unalloyed pleasure 
in roaming along the familiar paths where our simple 
wild flowers bloom. The latter are all the more inter- 
esting from their recognized kinship with those over 
the sea. 
In these early July days, whether we wander in the 
bright sunlight by the brink of weedy lake, or follow 
the dainty little brook in its meanderings through the 
meadows, or seek the refreshing shade of the wood, we 
