FROM FRANCIS AND SALLIE 147 



played bee. It was the stamens that Francis meant 

 were curved over. I tapped one very gently with 

 the pin. It sprang up at once, and a tiny cloud of 

 golden dust was scattered over my finger. I felt 

 so sorry then not to fly off with it to another 

 flower. I began to think Master Bee had a very 

 jolly life. 



Grandmother was just as delighted as I with 

 this little surprise trap and we played bee until we 

 had used up nearly all the stamens in the flowers 

 that Francis had sent. The few we left down 

 were for Tommy to see when he came. 



After that evening Tommy's father wrote a 

 long letter to Francis, telling him that the Laurel 

 was one of the plants his society was trying to save 

 from vanishing, and asking him to help them 

 along by begging his friends not to pick it, and 

 especially not to break off its young shoots. 

 Tommy's father and Grandmother can both re- 

 member when it grew near here, and when they 

 found it just as often as they did Arbutus. 



The Pitcher-plant in Francis's box had a flower 

 much larger than the Laurel's, which looked some- 

 thing like a garden Rose. It was crimson and 

 rather green inside, and it nodded over from the 

 end of quite a tall stalk. I didn't think it was 

 quite as pretty as a Rose. 



The leaves were very curious. They were 

 folded together in the shape of little pitchers with- 

 out handles. Any one could drink out of them 



