I56 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



eye, its heart of hearts, the pool, fed 

 by a ceaseless spring and tingeing the 

 ground about with emerald. What 

 bird is there that does not claim it 

 for his summer watering-place ? When 

 every other pond and many brooks are 

 dry in this arid month of August, the 

 pool remains, only shrinking a little at 

 the margin, showing the stems of 

 pickerel-weed and sagittaria. White 

 water-lilies sway upon its surface; 

 some are shut and others, in the last 

 day of their flowerhood, are still open, 

 as if reluctant to close their eyes on so 

 much beauty. Sharp flag leaves break 

 the edge, and tall Osmundas look over 

 them to see their own reflections; 

 O. rega/is, the queen, who often wears 

 in her pinnate fronds the mystic number 

 thirteen; O. cinnamomea, whose leaves, 

 wool-wrapped in youth, yield their 

 fleece to line the nests of humming- 



