CHAPTER XLIII 



INDIANS IN THE GOLDENROD 



Philip and his mother stayed for over a week 

 in New England; and we have only heard, since 

 they came back, about the Indians in the Golden- 

 rod. At first Philip was not sorry he had gone 

 visiting, because he liked to be with Francis. 

 Things there, however, were almost the same as 

 at home, and he missed Tommy and me. He 

 looked over the fields, and down the road, and all 

 he could see was Goldenrod, either standing still, 

 or waving with the wind. " Just the way it looks 

 now at Warley Towers," he thought. 



Usually Philip doesn't take much notice of 

 Goldenrod, and I am not sure that Tommy does 

 either. Of course they can't help seeing it when it 

 pushes Asters and Thistles and all the other au- 

 tumn flowers out of the fields. They both know, 

 besides, that the Goldenrod family has a great 

 many members, more than they have ever been 

 able to count. 



Some Goldenrods stand up like bushes, and send 

 out long sprays of small yellow flower-heads; 

 others have flower-heads packed so closely together 

 that they look like thick plumes, while again there 

 are others that are thin and miserable looking. 

 One kind of Goldenrod has a square stem, and 

 the leaves of another kind have a sweet scent ; one 



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