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acquisitions to the garden and conservatory, approach in loveliness to this native of our Highland lochs and lowland streams! And there is something in its appearance of elegant luxurious refinement,—if I may be allowed so to speak of nature,—for flowering as it does, in the noon of Summer, when many spots are parched with drought, the Lily is refreshingly beautiful, reclining on the placid bosom of the water, her fair head pillowed on the spreading leaves, and gently undulating, as a tiny wavelet glides along the sunlit, glittering surface. The scent of the Lily, though faint, is exceedingly sweet; thus adding rich qualities to its rare charms.
The Yellow Water Lily, the Nuphar Lutea, is also beautiful, when not thrown into the shade by the peerless loveliness of its "white bosomed" relative. The leaves are equally fine, though different in form, being more arrow-shaped; but the flower is little more than a fourth part the size of the majestic Nymphæa. Many of our water-plants are highly ornamental and interesting; the tall and rare-flowering Rush may rank next to the Lily in beauty; and the yellow Iris, or Water-flag, the delicate Arrow-head, purple Loose-strife, and "foam-like" Meadow-sweet, with "the blue and bright-eyed floweret of the brook, Hope's gentle gem, the fair Forget-me-not," deck our river and lake banks with their rich enamel of rainbow-hues, and tremble in the sunshine, under the light feet of the dragon fly, as he darts, like a bright meteor, from leaf to flower; while the less brilliant but busy bee goes more heavily along, murmuring her story of industry and prudent foresight; and the gay
