Flowers in Colorado. 



and there are several yellow flowers, and one of pale pink, 

 and several of white, I recollect, whose names I do not 

 know ; neither do I know how to describe their shapes. 

 I am as helpless as the little black boy on the Fourth 

 of July, I can describe only the colors. 



Leaving the streets of the town, and going southwest 

 towards the foot-hills of the Cheyenne Mountain, we come 

 to a new and a daintier show. As soon as we strike the 

 line of the little creek which we must follow up among 

 the hills, we find copses of wild plum and wild roses in 

 full bloom. The wild rose grows here in great thickets, as 

 the black alder grows in New England swamps. The trees 

 are above your head, and each bough is so full of roses it 

 would seem an impossibility for it to hold one rose more. 

 We bear wild roses home, by whole trees, and keep them 

 in our rooms in great masses which will well-nigh fill a 

 window. I have more than once tried to count the roses 

 on such a sheaf in my window, and have given it up. 



Along the banks of the brook are white daisies and 

 pink ; vetches, and lupines, white, yellow, and purple. The 

 yellow ones grow in superb spikes, one or two feet from 



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