THE DANDELION 
61 
lawn must have been made for suffering. The flower 
soon changes into the round, airy ** seven-he-loves,” 
and then the passing breeze or the play of children 
(of any age) scatters the seed on its way to new 
victories over the defences of the grass. The Dan- 
delion's life is a perpetual spring. Throughout the 
advancing summer it expands and glows with all the 
intensity of the opening season. And when the leaves 
have withered and the grass is weakening with its own 
weight, when the root-leaves of next season's flowers 
are tracing their distinctive patterns on the ground, 
the brilliant rosettes of the Dandelion come out 
with all the rich warmth of early spring. There is 
a happy informality about this appearance in late 
autumn that makes it doubly welcome. Through 
the winter the root-leaves survive under the snow, 
an earnest of complete and perfect naturalisation, and 
a happy solution of the problem of perpetual life. 
