AN ISLAND GARDEN 83 



Lindley's definition of what constitutes a Poppy, 

 which he thinks " might stand." This is it : " A 

 Poppy is a flower which has either four or six 

 petals, and two or more treasuries united in one, 

 containing a milky, stupefying fluid in its stalks 

 and leaves, and always throwing away its calyx 

 when it blossoms." 



I muse over their seed-pods, those supremely 

 graceful urns that are wrought with such match- 

 less elegance of shape, and think what strange 

 power they hold within. Sleep is there, and 

 Death his brother, imprisoned in those mystic 

 sealed cups. There is a hint of their mystery in 

 their shape of sombre beauty, but never a sug- 

 gestion in the fluttering blossom ; it is the gayest 

 flower that blows. In the more delicate varieties 

 the stalks are so slender, yet so strong, like fine 

 grass stems, when you examine them you won- 

 der how they hold even the light weight of the 

 flower so firmly and proudly erect. They are 

 clothed with the finest of fine hairs up and down 

 the stalks, and over the green calyx, especially 

 in the Iceland varieties, where these hairs are of 

 a lovely red-brown color and add much to their 

 beauty. 



It is plain to see, as one gazes over the Poppy 

 beds on some sweet evening at sunset, what buds 

 will bloom in the joy of next morning's first 

 sunbeams, for these will be lifting themselves 

 heavenward, slowly and silently, but surely. To 

 stand by the beds at sunrise and see the flowers 

 awake is a heavenly delight. As the first long, 

 low rays of the sun strike the buds, you know 



