IN ELYSIAN FIELDS 173 



The humbler ^members of the larkspur family, so faith- 

 ful in supporting a mass of blue color in the artistic land- 

 scape, furnish spurs to make the loveliest larkspur chains 

 for childish play. For the same reason one should encour- 

 age daisies, the little pink English flower, "wee, modest, 

 crimson-tipped thing," and the marguerite, by which one 

 can tell if "he loves me or loves not" and make daisy 

 chaplets. 



Pinks great and small, the sweet clove pink, double 

 and single pinks, are prime favorites. Boys take most 

 kindly to pinks, and the husky lad, who sniffs at the 

 flower garden in general, tries to wear a spice pink in his 

 buttonhole as long as the plants are in bloom. The phlox 

 drummondii is another boyish favorite, though it has no 

 tempting odor. There must have been something appeal- 

 ing in the star-eyed design that induced a boy to work 

 among his phlox every day and keep a small book record 

 of thirty-three different patterns of reds and whites, yel- 

 lows and mauves, star-eyed and ring-eyed, streaked and 

 splashed in freaks of color. 



The petunia has color, and the portulaca is a quaint 

 plant if there is not enough room for another. Its juicy 

 foliage sparkles with dewy lights, its innocent flowers of 

 purest yellows, reds, carmines, and white, and later the 

 curious seed pods make it a never-ending source of delight. 



I fear that the rank odor of the marigold keeps it from 

 the place in the affections that it should have, but many a 



