112 
each one of her leaves, as if each one loved her 
dearly, told Mary she was the favorite of the cin¬ 
namon-colored thrush, the sweetest songster in the 
woods, and that the peewinks and the bobolinks 
came to see her every day. 
The Cowslip said her other name was Caltha, 
which was the Greek word for goblet; and she was 
willing to tell such a kind little girl, that her flower- 
buds were as good to eat as capers, if they were 
gathered early enough. “ It is too late now,” she 
added, rather hurriedly. “ The cows do not eat 
us,” this she said with a shudder, “ unless they are 
very hungry indeed. I hope they will not be so 
this morning. I like to impart the sweets of my 
goblet to that butterfly—the one with pale olive- 
brown wings dotted with black—'for he tells me 
stories about many flowers. That bush by my 
side is the morning and evening Primrose. She 
