214 FLOWERS AND FOLKS. 



What a contrast between such lowly- 

 minded, unobtrusive beauties and egotists 

 like our multitudinous asters and golden - 

 rods! These, between them, almost take 

 possession of the world for the two or three 

 months of their reign. They are handsome, 

 and they know it. What is beauty for, if 

 not to be admired? They mass their tiny 

 blossoms first into solid heads, then into 

 panicles and racemes, and have no idea of 

 hiding their constellated brightness under a 

 bushel. "Let your light shine!" is the 

 word they go on. How eagerly they crowd 

 along the roadside, till the casual passer-by 

 can see scarce anything else! If he does 

 not see them, it is not their fault. 



For myself, I am far from wishing them 

 at all less numerous, or a jot less forward 

 in displaying their charms. Let there be 

 variety, I say. Because I speak well of the 

 violet for its humility, I see no reason why 

 I should quarrel with the aster for loving 

 to make a show. Herein, too, plants are 

 like men. An indisposition toward pub- 

 licity is amiable in those to whom it is nat- 

 ural ; but I am not clear that bashf ulness is 

 the only commendable quality. Let plants 



