CHAPTER XXI 



PHILIP GOES FOR A BOUQUET OF MEADOW-SWEET 



To-day is the loth of June, and one of the 

 loveliest wild flowers in bloom is called Meadow- 

 sweet. Every year that Tommy can remember it 

 has lasted until midsummer; although he thinks 

 it prettier now than later, when its leaves will be 

 covered with dust, and its flowers will look dull 

 and faded. It is often called Pride-of-the-meadow, 

 and Queen-of-the-meadow, and perhaps it has 

 other names besides these that I do not know. It 

 looks like a queen in Grandmother's field. There 

 it grows in the middle, and all around the sides, 

 and especially in places where the soil is moist. I 

 think it also likes to lean against the stone wall. 

 I have seen it along the road, and on Wild Rose's 

 Highway, and in another place I know, it is all 

 twined about with Blackberry vines. It has 

 never come out yet by Old Adam. 



Meadow-sweet is not simply one stalk that 

 comes up alone and bears a large flower; it is a 

 small bush, or shrub, something the shape of Wild 

 Azalea. The flowers are no larger than my little 

 finger-nail; but so many of them are packed to- 

 gether in pointed bunches that, from a distance, 

 they look like one large flower. They are pink, 



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