WILD AND CULTIVATED FLOWERS 117 
Since coming to live at the Six Spruces, I have 
learned to face wasps and bees boldly. They do 
not, it seems, like people who are afraid of them, 
and wreak their anger by leaving a painful sting. 
This fact, Mr. Percy told us, was first taught by 
an American naturalist. Nevertheless, it took me 
some time to wear a smiling face in front of bees ; 
and only because I was sure that Mr. Percy knew 
the truth, was I able to do it at all. But now I 
have quite ceased to fear them, and do not in the 
least mind their buzzing around me. Now I can, 
without screaming, let a bee or a wasp walk over 
my bare hand. 
Yesterday at Nestly Heights we were standing 
by a large bed of azalea mollis. It was in full 
bloom, and surrounded by bees. I stooped to find 
the label of these shrubs, running my hand in under 
them and over the ground, until the telltale stick 
was found. I neither minded the buzzing bees, 
nor did they me, although I fancy they were some- 
what disgusted that the flowers on my hat were 
without nectar. They soon learned their mistake, 
however, and forsook the artificial ones, my hands 
and shoulders as well, for the more hospitable 
golden funnels of the azalea. 
Until this year Joseph and I had never seen 
azalea mollis. It is a Japanese azalea bearing 
astonishingly brilliant flowers. They are lemon 
yellow, bright, vivid scarlet, deep orange and every 
colour that can be seen in a soaring flame. At 
