6o THE DANDELION 



and perfect condition is maintained with unceasing 

 care. But along comes the iconoclastic Dandelion, 

 takes up its abode in the most treasured spot, and 

 glares defiance at the most solicitous attendants on 

 the venerated herbage. It comes to avenge that 

 hidden tragedy — ^the smothering of the delicate wood 

 children in the shade of the surviving trees. Those 

 children need the fostering care of mother nature. 

 The mantle of leaves is a covering in winter and a 

 nourishing support in spring. If these are gathered 

 up and burned, the way is opened for the encroaching 

 grass. But there would be a break in nature's perfec- 

 tion if there was no Dandelion to come in its aggressive 

 strength and avenge the weak and defenceless. 



The Dandelion is among the earliest flowers of 

 spring and the latest to bloom in the fall. It does not 

 enjoy the woods, but prefers the more strenuous life 

 of meadows, roadsides, and lawns. It glows bright 

 and yellow under the first touches of awakening 

 warmth, and with the persuasion of a few days of 

 spring it spangles the fields and lawns with brilliant 

 points of gold. The green sward in grey morning 

 seems lit by myriads of glowing stars. The scattered 

 flowers expand as cheerfully in the inhospitable 

 grass of the lawn as out among the sedges, where the 

 dew makes the matted cobwebs visible and forms in 

 crystal globules in the lupine leaves. The man who 

 suffers through seeing Dandelions glowing in his 



