By the time the apple-blossoms have fallen, the air is pulsating with the balm of June. The buttercups have come before this, to be sure. but now they make a veritable “ field o’ the cloth o'gold,” with their “ million, million drops of gold among the green.” Did anybody ever try to make an attar-of-buttercups? This essence is entirely unique, and there is a softness in it which positively affects the senses like a gentle touch. But let no one try to imprison it in phials. It belongs to the wide country meadow and roadside.