68 COLUMBINE'S GLORY 



often to take a high climb. Sometimes we call 

 it Rock Bells. 



Tommy's father hopes it will never be chosen 

 as a national flower, because he thinks that if all 

 the people knew it as such, they would pick it 

 until it would disappear in one season. Already 

 it is a vanishing wild flower, like the Arbutus and 

 Dutchman's Breeches. 



It is vanishing because, although every year it 

 should make and sow its own seed, often each 

 flower in a little group of plants is picked and 

 then no seeds are sown, and the next year there 

 are fewer blossoms. 



The first day this spring that Tommy and his 

 dog went to the well-known places where Colum- 

 bine grows they found hardly any plants, and 

 those they did find had a sickly, stunted look. 

 This his father thinks is because they were too 

 much picked last year. Next year perhaps they 

 will not come up at all. 



Tommy had a hard tramp with Peter that day, 

 in high, rocky places, and sometimes over trees 

 that had been struck by lightning. In the night 

 there had been a great storm, and the sun had 

 not yet come out very brightly. That day also 

 Tommy heard hundreds of noises; not the kind 

 that people hear in the city, though, screeching, 

 rumbling noises, but noises insects make shaking 

 their wings, and tall plants flapping, and birds 

 chirping. 



