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ruining for ever thousands of our more delicate plants, leaving in
their stead a scene of desolation, caused in Mr. W's <s> egg, eyes</s> breast
no feelings of regret.  "If the whole damn woods had burnt
down, so that no houses wouldn't have burnt, it would have
been a good thing" was his view.  This view too, is the view of
all men of his kind - to them a beautiful wood is an eye-sore.
I kept along the edge of the pond and succeeded in 
finding Viola lanceolata and Viola primulifolia in fruit.  <s>Both</s> These 2 plants violets are
remarkably similar in habit, both grow in similar wet situations,
their flowers and fruit are alike, their method of reproducing by
long runners is also <s>similar</s> alike.  Leaving the pond, I took the
path through H's place.  When at the hut, I paid a visit to
the swamp in the rear.  Here among the water-lilies the bladderwort was found in
flower, not abundantly, but there were a few more than were
found last year.  The water-lilies were a beautiful sight.  Here
there is not much water and in places the flower was borne
on a stalk several inches above the moist ground.  The
flowers are easily gotten and while collecting them I noticed
in several of them a peculiar 2 winged insect <s>collecting</s> making
futile unsuccessful efforts, after sipping some of the delicious nectar
        