except in the autumn Maples, when the bright, glowing sun seems to call for gaiety and brilliant colours, does not seem to appeal to them. The Nerine (Lycoris radiata) blooms at the time of the September rains, and the name ‘Equinox Flower,’ as it is often called, is really, I believe, the only suggestion of bad omen there is about it. In the same way a red Camellia, Mr. Chamberlain points out, is regarded by the Japanese as suggestive of a decapitated head, and I can understand it (though he says he cannot), because the heavy, hard, round bloom drops or breaks off in such a horrid sudden manner from the neck! Yet the glossy leaves of the same handsome tree decorate more than half the wayside shrines all over Japan—a poor compliment, if they really disliked it as much as such a belief, in so refined and æsthetic a people, would imply.
The Iris—the Undine of plants—is never contented without water, and she is happiest when she can stand ankle-deep in it, not stirring on her slender stalk, so that she may use the smooth surface of the pool as a mirror. The Iris and the Wistaria are both suggestive of the feminine qualities, but the latter has the more clinging grace, while the former, like a Quakeress, has more shyness and modesty. But the Iris—or rather the Shobu or Sweet Flag so often mistaken for the Iris—is a healer too, and her very presence is supposed to ward off disease. On the fifth of May, the ‘Festival of the Boys,’ its sword-
