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especially liked to hunt among them for four-leaved 
clovers, which was an omen of good luck when 
found. She did not remember ever to have seen 
one herself, but thought there must have been one 
somewhere in the world, or they would not be 
looked for so often. She said her name, Trefoil, 
meant three leaves on one stalk. 
“We like to grow together in a large field,” she 
said, “ where taller plants do not smother us and 
push us away. I think Saint-foin is a very good 
neighbor. She strikes her roots down so straight 
that they do not interfere with ours, and I suspect 
she is very willing to live with clovers.” Trefoil 
looked up at the Hedysarum as she spoke, but 
the purple flower held her head very stiffly and 
made no answer, and Mary walked on. 
The heart-shaped leaves and purple spikes of 
the Pickerel-weed, and the arrow-shaped leaves and 
