Wreaths of Friendship | Page 8

"We know we are heathenish, savage, and rough, And are
greatly obliged for your pity.
"But your plan of conversion we beg to decline, With all due respect
for your nation; No doubt it would tend to exalt and refine, Yet we fear
it would check respiration."
The Heron returned to his peers in disdain, And told how their love was
requited. "Poor creatures!" they said, "shall we let them remain So
ignorant, blind, and benighted?"
Then soon on a crusade of love and good-will The Herons in council
decided; And they flew, every one that could boast a long bill, To the
beach where the Herrings resided.
So the tribe were soon converts from ocean to air, Though liking not
much the diversion, And wishing at least they had time to prepare For
so novel a mode of conversion.
A sensible child will discover with ease The point of the tale I've
related-- A blockhead could not, let me say what I please-- Then why
need my MORAL be stated?

EARLY SPRING FLOWERS.
Of all the amusements of my childhood, I can think of none which I
loved so much as rambling in the woods and meadows among the
flowers. What a rich treat it used to be, just after the earth had thrown

aside its white mantle, and begun to be clothed in its summer dress, to
get permission to spend a whole Saturday afternoon in the woods with
my brother and sister. Oh, how delighted we all were, when we found
the first wild flowers of spring! Let me see. What flowers show their
pretty faces the earliest? Do you remember, young friend? Perhaps you
have always lived in the city, and have never made their acquaintance.
But if you have ever seen them, blushing in their native haunts, I am
sure you must remember how they look, and what their names are. I
cannot see how any body can forget them, they are so beautiful and
lovely.
One of the earliest flowers of spring, and one which grew in the woods
only a few rods from my father's door, near the stream that turned my
miniature water-wheels, is the Trailing Arbutus. Often you may find
this plant unfolding its delicate blossoms before the snow has left the
ground. That, in our northern latitudes, is usually among the first
flowers in blossom. Soon after she appears, you may see one and
perhaps two different species of the Anemone. One, especially--the
Anemone Thalictroides, as it used to be called in botany, though it is
now the Thalictrum Anemonoides, I believe--is among the fairest of all
these flowers of spring. She has a blossom as white as snow. The
Anemone Nemrosa is almost as fair, too, though not quite, I think. You
can sometimes see them both smiling side by side, early in the month
of May, nodding gracefully at each other, and smiling as if they were
very happy. It does not require much imagination to fancy they are
conversing together; and, indeed, I would quite as soon believe that
flowers could talk, as I would believe those stories about the fairies that
children hear sometimes.
There is another beautiful flower which makes her appearance very
early--the Spring Beauty, or Claytonia Virginica. She is usually found
in the same locations with the Anemone. Then there is the Liver Leaf.
Did you ever find that, little girl? Very possibly you have not taken a
ramble early enough in the spring to see her. She makes her visit
frequently in the latter part of April, and she does not stay long. But
after her flower has faded and fallen, there may be seen a few deeply
notched and curious leaves, to mark the spot where she bloomed so

sweetly.
The Blood Root, too, will make her visit, and go away again, if you
delay your ramble in the woods till the first of May. The blossom of the
Blood Root is a very delicate white. Hundreds of exotic flowers are
cultivated in our gardens, and very much admired, that are not half so
pretty as this. The leaves that appear before the plant is in blossom, are
oval, a little like those of the Adder's Tongue, which is in flower
somewhat later, and like those of one species of the Solomon's
Seal--the Convallaria Bifolia. But when the flower of the Blood Root
appears, you see quite a different kind of leaf, so that even close
observers of wild flowers are sometimes deceived, and think that their
early leaves belong to some other plant.
Every body who has been at all familiar with the forest and meadows in
the spring, knows the Violet. There are a good many sisters in this
charming family, but none, perhaps, in our latitude, that are more