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many tufts of stamens that stood together in her 
midst; for no other wild flower in America possessed 
such a growth. The pellucid dots upon her leaves, 
too, distinguished her from many other flowers. 
“ And the oil that is contained in these tiny specks 
will turn the oil in your lamps to a bright purple 
color; and my leaves, if dried and steeped in water, 
will give a bright yellow tint to your winter gowns,” 
said the sociable little flower. “ One of my names 
was given me in honor of a good man named St 
John,” she went on to say, “ for on his birth day 
men used to gather our flowers, and hang them in 
the windows, to keep off thunder storms. But I 
suppose men are wiser now, for we are no longer 
used to charm away thunder. Only the bees and 
the children love us now.” 
The pink and red Spiraeas raised their pretty heads 
among the bushes. The leaves of some of these 
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