126 WILD FLOWERS OF SCOTLAND 



nor less fresh and pleasant-looking than country 

 maidens usually are. 



" See ! see ! " say the breathless runners, holding 

 out what they have gathered. 



There are nodding harebells, and a sprig of 

 crimson herb robert, and a little scarlet poor man's 

 weather-glass, got on the field side, and a whole 

 shower of star-like stitchworts, and a bit of sweet 

 briar for scent ; and just a little morsel of wood- 

 bine which grew outside the gate, " and didn't 

 belong to the farmer, you know : did it ? " 



The children have only half satisfied their ele- 

 mentary consciences about the woodbine, and coax- 

 ingly appeal for the approval of their elders. 



"Is that all?" say the sisters discouragingly. 

 " Look what we have come for." 



They lift the little ones above the level of the 

 tall corn, and there over the forest of yellowing 

 grain is paradise ; at sight of which the withered 

 and despised collections of the morning are dropped 

 to the ground. 



" You see what it is to be big," say the maidens. 



And then the whole band begin to walk along 

 the edge of the corn, the children waiting in faith 

 below, the maidens watching above for some of 

 those glorious things to come within reach. 



