VII. 



WHITE CLOVER AND LINN. 



All things were now in readiness for the white 

 clover to open its dainty globes, so full of food for 

 my friends, the bees. I watched its progress with 

 an expectant eagerness. It grew in great abund- 

 ance, and gave promise of an almost measureless 

 flow of nectar. How small and insignificant it 

 seemed beside the great linn trees, some of them 

 sixty feet high, that held up their mighty crowns 

 of leaves to the warm embrace of the summer sun. 

 Some of the linn trees, growing in more open places, 

 branched near the ground, and I was able easily to 

 observe the swelling flower buds. Every tree had 

 its millions. In a few days every bud would open, 

 and every small flower would be a chalice, daily 

 filled, by the beneficent hand of nature, with the 

 honey which the tireless bees would hasten to carry 

 to the hives. The delicate clover, modestly creep- 

 ing everywhere, and the majestic linns, noble mon- 

 archy of the woods, were equally my friends. On 

 the 1 2th of June the clover began to open in the 



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