15 
long. They reflect the sun very powerfully, throw¬ 
ing his heat in upon the germ, within which my 
spirit dwells, and from which I burst every spring 
with new vigor and joy. 
“ Little girl, did you ever hear of people called 
botanists ? If you know any of them, I wonder if 
you dislike them as much as I do. One day last 
spring your mamma walked into the garden with a 
gentleman, and I heard her say to him, ‘ you are a 
botanist, sir, and can tell me what to call these 
flowers.’ He stooped down and broke off a dear 
little sister of mine, and after looking at it a mo¬ 
ment he said her name was Galanthus nivalis, and 
that these are Greek and Latin words—gala means 
milk, and an thus a flower—nivalis means snowy. 
I did not think the name so pretty as either my 
French or English one, and my heart ached when 
I saw him pull off my poor sister’s petals, and 
