Near the kitchen door of those 

 rambling old houses built by the 

 sturdy Dutch one will find many^ a 

 gnarled and ancient bush which in 

 Maytime is clothed in beauty and red- 

 olent with sweetness, content for the 

 remaining eleven months to draw into 

 the background and be forgotten for 

 more splendid but less fragrant blos- 

 soms. Drive through the country, 

 particularly New England, in the 

 springtime, and many an abandoned 

 farm will wave a welcome tO; you 

 through its lilac blossoms. 



More pathetic yet are those ruined 

 homes of which no traces are left save 

 a crumbling foundation and, perhaps, 

 the worn doorstep, still protected by 

 its lilac-bushes bending over it as if to 

 conceal its desolate condition. 



Whittier, in " The Homestead," gives 

 a sad picture of such a deserted; 

 dwelling : — 



