A SUBURBAN RAMBLE 23 



name. The Hepaticas come out as if they had 

 enjoyed the winter. Their characteristic leaves are 

 full of vitality, although their stems may droop. And 

 in the centre among the stems the rising woolly 

 bunches are reaching up, preparing to unfold the 

 dehcate flowers already impatient for the early sun. 

 The Trailing Arbutus is still more eager, though 

 advancing more quietly under the dead Oak leaves. 

 Where an occasional leaf shows only a hard vitality, a 

 careful search close to the moist ground will disclose 

 flowers already open, showing delicate white and 

 pink and enriching the air with perfume. 



Rich red patches on the Silver Birch show where 

 vandals have robbed the trees of their beauty. The 

 sublime egotism of the human name, at which the 

 greatest of all egotists in modern hterature marvelled, 

 is seen in the initial letters with which the bark is 

 defaced. More stirring to the fancy is a cabalistic 

 design cut with care and regularity in the white bark. 

 It is not the insignia of any secret order, inscribed in 

 the enthusiastic faith of a neophyte. There is no 

 clue to the intent or purpose of the strange marks. 

 They are hidden away in the lonehest spot, in 

 contrast with the conspicuously displayed initials. 

 Fancy and speculation are dampened by the multi- 

 plicity of influences that prompt humanity to action. 

 In the nibbled bark of a broken limb we see where the 

 Field Mice, driven from home by the recent floods. 



