[EARLY MORNING NATURE-STUDY.]
MRS. BRIGHTWEN IN HER GARDEN.
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To a true lover of nature hardly anything can be more thoroughly enjoyable than a quiet hour spent in some shady spot early on a summer’s morning, whilst the dew is still upon the flowers, and before any sounds can be heard except those made by happy birds and insects.
In my garden there is a little dell embowered by trees, where I often spend an hour or two before breakfast for the special purpose of enjoying the company of my pet wild creatures.
On one side are five arches, formed possibly some hundreds of years ago, since the great stones are grey with age and picturesquely moss-grown and ivy-clad. Young trees, too, are growing here and there out of the crevices into which the wind has wafted their seeds.
In an open space before me are groups of stately foxgloves of every tint, ranging from purple through rose-colour to pure white. Some of them have stems fully seven feet in height, each bearing not fewer than a hundred and forty or fifty flowers.
Not only amongst these foxgloves, but in the lime branches overhead innumerable bees keep up a continuous murmuring sound as they busily gather their morning store of honey.