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The street sparrows, pestiferous and persistent as they are, would forsake my sylvan pageant if I spoke of the Bird-foot Violet as the 'Viola Pedata'; and the commonest cur would run howling if he beard the gentle Poison Dogwood maligned as the 'Rhus Venenata'. The very milk-cans would turn to their native pumps in disgust from my attempt to invoke our simple American Cowslip as the 'Dodecatheon Meadia'.
She knew the exact spot, a mile from the gray farmhouse, where, in a lovely little wood by a quiet road, a profusion of bird-foot violets and bluets made a carpet of blue loveliness each spring so on, through the fleet days of summer, till the last asters and goldenrod faded, the child reveled in the beauties and wonders of the world at her feet and loved every part of it, from the tiny blue speedwell in the grass to the gorgeous orioles in the trees.
We can't go for bird-foot violets or arbutus." Arbutus the name called up a host of memories to me. "How I'd like to go for arbutus this spring," I told him. "Then come home in April and I'll take you to Mt. Hope for some." "Oh, David, will you?" "I'd love to. We'll drive up." "I'll come," I promised. "I'll come home for arbutus. Let me know when they're out." "All right.
"They look as if some one had crumpled up a real violet leaf and cut it from the edge to the stem into a fine fringe." "Turn it upside down and press it against the ground. Don't you think it looks like a bird's claw?" "So it does! This must be a 'bird-foot violet," "It is, and there's more meaning in the name than in the one the yellow bell suffers from.
Here, every day, were to be heard the glorious song of the cardinal grosbeak, the insect-like effort of the blue-gray gnatcatcher, and the rigmarole of the yellow-breasted chat. On a wooded hillside, where grew a profusion of trailing arbutus, pink azalea, and bird-foot violets, the rowdyish, great-crested flycatchers were screaming in the tree-tops.
The street sparrows, pestiferous and persistent as they are, would forsake my sylvan pageant if I spoke of the Bird-foot Violet as the 'Viola Pedata'; and the commonest cur would run howling if he beard the gentle Poison Dogwood maligned as the 'Rhus Venenata'. The very milk-cans would turn to their native pumps in disgust from my attempt to invoke our simple American Cowslip as the 'Dodecatheon Meadia'.
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