196 GOLDEN GLOW AND HOLLYHOCKS 
thing near them appear sunny. As I go close to 
them, however, I care less for them. There is 
something a trifle coarse about their flowers. I 
do not wish to gather them to take into the house, 
although their flowers last well in water throughout 
a week. Almost every place in Nestly has golden 
glows. Even the very poor have them somewhere 
about their homes. I think people like them be- 
cause they appear so cheery, and surely no one could 
feel long dreary while looking at their masses of 
yellow. 
Joseph had heard that golden glow roots should 
be divided every other year. They increase so rap- 
idly that people soon have more roots than they 
wish to take care of themselves. The surplus they 
give away, which accounts, perhaps, for the abun- 
dance of golden glow about Nestly. 
Yellow is always a beautiful colour in a garden, 
gleaming brighter than any other. It calls people 
to look at it. I do not know just why, but Joseph 
always seems a little miffed when I talk much about 
yellow. 
To-day, while he was looking at the smoke-tree 
that Miss Wiseman gave us, to see how nearly 
ready it was to flower, he spied a nest in which four 
baby catbirds were holding open their mouths in 
expectation of their parents’ return. We then 
knew why we had so often heard the catbird’s alarm 
cry about the garden. This cry the bird gives in 
imitation of a cat, and is not its real song at all. 
