A COUNTRY WALK 
165 
tlower. Roses, geraniums, lobelias, carnations, German asters, 
sweet-peas and sunflowers, all seemed to smile a “ good morn- 
ing,” while each blade of grass sparkled with its separate 
diamond, for the sun was not yet hot enough to melt the dew. 
The sky was a clear pale blue, without a cloud, and Nature, at 
least, seemed to have forgotten that cloudy and rainy days were 
to come. As I passed through the gate at the end of the garden, 
a sweet little robin flew across my path and I stood for a 
moment and watched it as it flew into a neighbouring bush, 
while the gurgling of a brook close by seemed to lend an accom- 
paniment to its song. 
There were many things about this brook which interested 
me. A little moorhen swam across the water, followed by her 
small family of five, and began to search among the weeds for 
food to satisfy her hungry little ones. A water-rat, too, seemed 
very busy with his own concerns, and my presence did not ap- 
pear to interfere with his enjoyment : apparently he was fond 
of the fresh weeds which grew plentifully on the edge of the 
brook. But as I w'alked on, and the brook widened, 1 found 
that far more beautiful plants than weeds grew in this stream, 
for here were lovely water-lilies of the purest white, their dark 
green leaves making them look still more pure ; and as I 
watched insect after insect settle on their snowy petals, it 
seemed to me that their beauty attracted even these tiny 
creatures. The green fly looked especially beautiful as it 
rested for a moment on one of the white leaves, while the sun 
shone on its wings, making them sparkle for a moment like an 
emerald. The air seemed full of all kinds of humming insects, 
from the velvety bumble-bee to the tiny gnat, while the busy 
bee flew from flower to flower in a most business-like manner, 
reminding me that “ time waits for no man,” and so I, too, must 
hasten, if I wished to finish my walk that day. So I bade fare- 
well to my friend the brook and then turned my steps towards 
the harvest field, where the voices of the gleaners, mingling 
with the tinkling sheep-bells coming home from a distant 
pasture, attracted my attention. I crossed a green field filled 
with cattle, the different shades and colours of which contrasted 
in a picturesque manner with the brilliantly green grass and 
varied colours of the wild flowers. They looked very well con- 
tent with their lot as they stood or lay about in groups, and I 
thought, as I passed them, how artistically animals generally 
arrange themselves. A few starlings hovered about round the 
cows, to prevent any flies or other insects from proving too 
troublesome. 
The golden cornfields in the distance were so attractive that 
I walked more quickly : the harvest was a fortnight earlier than 
usual and the fields were all full of gleaners : their dark, sunburnt 
skins and coloured garments looked very picture-like against the 
golden grain, while the red poppies and blue cornflowers added 
to the brilliancy of the scene. The little pimpernels were all 
