The activity of friendship soon traced the fugitive, but no arguments could induce those benevolent beings to accept remuneration in any form: nearly twelve months elapsed, when, journeying south, their former inmate sought the spot to which the “memory of the heart” furnished the clue. The gudewife, with looks of surprise, surveyed the handsome equipage from whence the inquiry for herself and husband was addressed, nor could she recognise, even in the still faded form before her, the distracted tenant of her lonely hut: on being joined by the old man, mutual explanations took place, and by dint of many arguments, the little offerings that had been brought for them were accepted by these good Samaritans, as “_kip sakes from the leddy, and nae for payment of what it was sae natural to do for a puir suffering fellow creter_.” ❦ [Sidenote: Linnæus.] Charles Linnæus was born at Smolande in 1707, and died at Upsal in 1778. The most celebrated botanist of the eighteenth century. His eminent talents introduced him to the notice of his sovereign, Gustavus III. who relieved him from poverty and embarrassment, and protected him till his death. Linnæus presided over the gardens of the University of Upsal for forty years, where a magnificent monument is erected to his memory. ❦ [Sidenote: Hortensia, or Hydranger.] The _Hortensia_, so called by _Commerson_ in compliment to Hortense le Pante, is one of the handsomest, as well as most lasting plant. Passing by different shades from white to green, till it becomes the fine bright lilac which takes its name; to this again succeeds the white and green tints. This beautiful plant is originally from China and Japan. Its Botanical name is _Hortensia mutabilis_, from the variety of its colours. ❦ I know not if my mother’s eyes Would find me changed in slighter things; I’ve wandered beneath many skies, And tasted of some bitter springs; And many leaves, once fair and gay, From youth’s full flower have dropp’d away. But as these looser leaves depart, The lessen’d flower gets near the core, And when deserted quite, the heart Takes closer what was dear of yore; And yearns to those who loved it first, The sunshine and the dew by which its head was nurst. Dear mother! dost thou love me yet? Am I remember’d in my home? When those I love for joy are met, Does some one wish that I would come? Thou dost--I _am_ beloved of these! But, as the schoolboy numbers o’er Night after night the Pleiades, And finds the stars he found before; As turns the maiden oft her token; As counts the miser aye his gold; So, till life’s silver cord is broken, Would I of thy fond love be told: My heart is full, mine eyes are wet; Dear mother! dost thou love thy long-lost wanderer yet?