THE MID-AUGUST FLOWERS. 229 
The emerald fringe of the margin shuts out any 
distant prospect. Above us is the sky, flecked with 
gray clouds, around us are the water and the woods, 
bathed with ever-changing lights and shadows, the 
whole as calm and peaceful as a picture out of fairy- 
land. Lightly we row along and slowly, gathering the 
fragrant lilies along our path, pushing our boat into this 
quiet nook and into that in search of more of these 
beauties. Here our progress is hindered by the sight 
of such a group of cat-tail flags (7ypha latifolia, L.) as 
we cannot resist the gathering, though they are shel- 
tered behind a strong defense of the poison dog-wood ; 
and now we glide slowly across the broad open through 
the shield-shaped leaves of the Brasenia, clutching now 
this, now that little Potamogeton or trailing stem of 
Utricularia, around whose slender leaves we know the 
compound microscope will reveal a whole other world 
of rare forms and entrancing beauties, or along the 
delightfully wooded shore where the chestnut and the 
oak, the birch and the maple fill the higher places, and 
the button-bush and the C/Zethkra, both in bloom, line 
the margin. 
Yonder to the right is the great dam, beyond which 
these waters will be harnessed to wheel after wheel as 
they go hurrying onward to the ocean. Their child- 
hood days are now ended, their busy days are come. 
As we turn homeward, choosing the shorter way, be- 
