THE WILD GARDEN. 159 
and a certain field at Hempstead, Long Island, invites every sea- 
son its select pilgrimage to visit its sea of bloom. The little 
blue-eyed grass (Svsyrinchium) stars the meadows on sunny sum- 
mer days, though usually in a widely scattered galaxy; but during 
a ride last summer I was decoyed from my carriage across a long 
swampy meadow by a blue haze that seemed to hang over the 
distant sedges—a cloud which was soon dissipated about my feet 
in a billion of these tiny flowers. 
Many a wild botanist—for they are all wild, wild in their 
haunts, wild with delight and enthusiasm, or else do not deserve 
to be called botanists — guards as the apple of his eye his orchid 
brood far up in the mountain tamarack swamp, or his isolated 
Calypso, or his treasury of sun-dew gems, or other precious 
riches. We all “know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows.” 
The heart of Columbus throbs in every true botanist’s bosom. 
He enters a new swamp or woods with his heart in his mouth. 
He is all on tiptoe with wonder and expectancy. The cry of 
“Land ahead!” is always imminent and always realized. But the 
seasons revolutionize his observations. His autumn soundings are 
out of date; he must sail by a new chart in the spring. Only 
last June I stood on the shores of such an unknown country—a 
large swampy wood, which I had known only in the season of 
bare trees, when there are few secrets in the woods. What new 
exaltation awaits me here? I mused. What new friend will ac- 
company me as I emerge from the other side of the forest? | 
had barely gone three steps when my question was answered, be- 
ing confronted with a strange botanical shape which I had never 
seen before. We stood on no formality, for the fame of the indi- 
vidual had already gone before him, and he assured me that he 
had been looking for me these many years. My new friend was 
guised in most singular botanical fashion, and I hope he did not 
chance to notice my smile at his expense. He stood full four 
feet high, holding above his head, without the slightest seeming 
necessity, a large tropical umbrella-like leaf two feet across, cut 
into sixteen drooping divisions; and he sported a flower tucked 
snugly in his lapel, which was a singular choice indeed for a 
