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nature that troubled her. She was grateful to the 
Butterfly-weed for warning her against danger, and 
telling her the disagreeable truths it was necessary 
for her to know. It would have seemed to her as if 
she were surrounded by evil spirits, if she had not 
remembered that God must have a good reason for 
making every thing, even if she could not under¬ 
stand it. 
She was relieved to see her favorite Blue-eyed 
Grass peeping at her from between the long blades. 
“I am afraid you will forget your humble friends the 
Grasses,” said the pretty little bright eye, “ so I 
hoped you would spy me out that I might remind 
you of us.” If all Grasses were as pretty as you 
are, thought Mary, there would be no danger of my 
forgetting them ; but as she stooped to look at the 
little speaker, she observed that what she had 
always called the common Grasses, to distinguish 
