EN ROUTE THROUGH PARADISE 39 
youth and as glad. Along the road the grass 
was vivid beyond compare. Anything looks 
lovely set down against such wonderful greenery 
as prairie grass. And I saw along our receding 
path dandelions and elders at bloom and wild 
dwarf roses worthy of the name the Indians gave 
them—a wild rose they named “shonna,” which 
is as sweet as the wild rose itself; say no more 
for the sweetness of the name—glowing caval- 
cades of spiderwort of unfathomable blue; wild 
mustard with its swift yellow like a glancing 
light; early thistles clad in their antagonistic 
foliage, beautiful as tracery on a winter pane; 
wild parsnip in wealth of bloom and bounty of 
multitude and clad in old gold in clumps and 
ribbands and thickets, but all wealth like a cap- 
tured argosy; and yellow sheep sorrel and muddy 
waters where the frogs are jubilantly singing by 
daylight; and white mock asters all a-nod in the 
wind, women asters nodding their heads as in talk- 
ing; wild prairie phlox wildly crimson, and some 
pinkish, and others drowsing away toward sleepy 
blue; and some yellow bloom shaped like unto 
a primrose, whose name I could not give in the 
rush of passing, and it was standing tall against 
the wind, swinging like a wild canary on a wind- 
blown stalk; and the compass plant in fronds of 
extravagant witchery; and beside, wheat fields 
ripening a very little but splotched, and shadows 
which the wind made in the whirl across the 
yielding grain; flowers in white and sometimes 
