All along the roads we notice a delicate white blossom, resembling the English primrose in shape, and one day ask an intelligent looking girl whom we meet what it is called; she does not know the name, but says the seed was accidentally brought from England many years ago, and the plant "has since become quite a pest",--which we can hardly understand as we enjoy its grace and beauty. We notice that our pleasant informant follows a pretty fashion of other belles of the village,--a fashion which suits their clear complexions and bright faces; that is, wearing a gauzy white scarf around the hat, and in the dainty folds a cluster of fresh garden flowers. The artist Boughton says. "The impressionist is a good antidote against the illusionist, who sees too much, and then adds to it a lot that he does not see." If he had ever visited this place we wonder what his idea would be of this quaint poem, supposed to have been written in 1720, which we have unearthed. We have acquired quite an affection for this pleasant old town, and shall be loath to leave. If our friends think we are too enthusiastic, we shall refer them to this old writer to prove that we have not said all that we might; as he indulges in such airy flights of fancy and such extravagant praise. His description would lead one to expect to see a river as great as the Mississippi, and mountains resembling the Alps in height, whereas in reality it is a quiet and not extraordinary though most pleading landscape which here "delights the eye". ANNAPOLIS--ROYAL