CHAPTER XIII 



OLD Adam's gaiety 



In the city I am sure that most children think 

 a rock like Old Adam can never be gay, because 

 it does not skip, nor laugh, nor sing. It cannot 

 choose which flowers shall grow about it, and even 

 I, who am now almost a country girl, still won- 

 der how it is that Old Adam never looks the same 

 for many days together. 



When March was here, it had such a solemn 

 look that I scarcely could believe a tender wild 

 flower would grow near it. Yet the Hepaticas 

 were the first of all the flowers that seemed quite 

 pleased to snuggle by the old rock. Near it 

 we found them pink, which is their most lively 

 color, while in Tommy's other bunks they were 

 more often blue, or white. The Hepaticas, though, 

 are such little flowers and grow so modestly that 

 they didn't change the look of Old Adam very 

 much. 



When the trees began to open their leaves, and 

 Butterflys' Banners grew on its top, and Violets 

 were all around, I did think it looked more cheer- 

 ful. Then when Dogwood and Columbine came 

 Tommy said it was getting frolicsome. They 

 both grow by the side that slants down, and 



So 



