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 
