Amsep°tur*i92iarm'}  Visiting  Old  Friends.  599 
the  bright  blue  of  the  pickerel  weed  now  passing  into  the  chaffy, 
brown  fruiting  stage.  The  "white,  button-like  tops  of  the  pipeworts 
remind  us  of  a  collection  of  hatpins  stuck  in  the  marsh  at  various 
angles.  The  yellow  blossoms  of  the  spatter  docks  look  vulgar  and 
common  when  contrasted  with  the  blooms  of  the  white  fragrant 
water  lilies  lying  outspread  in  graceful  symmetry  of  both  leaf  and 
flower.  The  sword-like  leaves  of  the  several  species  of  iris  which 
had  bloomed  some  time  since,  are  in  close  resemblance  to  the  foliage 
of  the  bulrushes  or  cat  tails  which  are  now  approaching  maturity. 
Back  in  the  swampy  edges  are  clusters  of  plants  of  the  cotton 
grass,  each  stalk  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a  bunny's  tail  tied  on. 
the  end  of  a- stick.  At  our  feet,  half  submerged,  lie  the  deep  blue- 
green,  large  velvety  leaves  of  the  golden  club,  which  bloomed  in  early 
summer.  Just  at  the  water's  edge  is  a  pitcher  plant  with  its  curious, 
pouch-shaped  leaves,  and  its  nodding  red  and  yellow,  button-shaped 
flower.  Lower  down  and  only  seen  when  searched  for  are  the  sun- 
dews, both  round  and  thread-leaved,  and  the  delicate  yellow-flow- 
ered bladderwort,  buoyed  up  by  its  balloon-like  foliage. 
After  such  a  treat  we  are  well  content  to  turn  our  course  home- 
ward, for  we  have  stored  in  our  memories  pleasant  scenes  and 
have  a  feeling  down  in  our  hearts  that  we  have  been  close  indeed 
to  nature. 
"What  is  the  score?"  says  the  professor  to  his  assistant.  "One 
hundred  and  eleven,"  is  the  answer,  for  copious  notes  have  been 
taken  as  we  sped^  along.  "Here  is  another  one,"  shout  both  the 
pathologist  and  the  botanist,  just  as  home  is  reached  on  the  sandy 
spit,  and  there,  forgotten  and  overlooked,  in  the  front  yard  stands 
a  fine  specimen  of  that  alien  immigrant,  long  since  naturalized,  the 
Timson  weed. 
"And  here  is  one  for  a  finale,"  says  the  professor  as  he  steps 
upon  a  specimen  of  the  sandbur,  so  appropriately  named  cenchrus 
tribuloides. 
"Are  you  going  to  write  this  up  ?"  asked  the  instructor  in  phar- 
maceutical arithmetic.  "If  so,  which  book  are  you  going  to  follow 
for  the  botanical  names,  Gray  or  Britton  &  Brown?"  "Forget  the 
botanical  names,"  answered  the  Dean.  "This  was  purely  a  pleasure 
trip,  not  an  educational  one." 
