together; Nature understands her business, and distributes her masses
and backgrounds unerringly. Yonder soft and feathery Meadow-Sweet longs
to be combined with Wild Roses: it yearns towards them in the field,
and, after withering in the hand most readily, it revives in water as if
to be with them in the vase. In the same way the White Spiraea serves as
natural background for the Field-Lilies. These lilies, by the way, are
the brightest adornment of our meadows during the short period of their
perfection. We have two species: one slender, erect, solitary, scarlet,
looking up to heaven with all its blushes on; the other clustered,
drooping, pale-yellow. I never saw the former in such profusion as last
week, on the bare summit of Wachusett. The granite ribs have there a
thin covering of crispest moss, spangled with the white starry blossoms
of the Mountain Cinquefoil; and as I lay and watched the red lilies that
waved their innumerable urns around me, it needed but little imagination
to see a thousand altars, sending visible flames forever upward to the
answering sun.

August comes: the Thistles are out, beloved of butterflies; deeper and
deeper tints, more passionate intensities of color, prepare the way for
the year's decline. A wealth of gorgeous Golden-Rod waves over all the
hills, and enriches every bouquet one gathers; its bright colors command
the eye, and it is graceful as an elm. Fitly arranged, it gives a bright
relief to the superb beauty of the Cardinal-Flowers, the brilliant
blue-purple of the Vervain, the pearl-white of the Life-Everlasting,
the delicate lilac of the Monkey-Flower, the soft pink and white of
the Spiraeas,--for the white yet lingers,--all surrounded by trailing
wreaths of blossoming Clematis.

But the Cardinal-Flower is best seen by itself, and, indeed, needs the
surroundings of its native haunts to display its fullest beauty. Its