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Updated: May 26, 2025
"They have to be planted early, you know. If we plant them just anywhere they'll be sure to be in the way of something that grows shorter so it will be hidden." "Or grows taller and is a color that fights with them." "It would be hard to find a color that wasn't matched by one sweetpea or another. They seem to be of every combination under the sun."
You would have thought, to see them over their coffee and eggs and rolls, that they had been breakfasting together thus for years Annie was so at home in her new kitchen; the deft little maid, in her crisp white, fitted so perfectly into the picture. Perhaps the thing that T. A. Buck said, once the maid left them alone, might have given an outsider the cue. "You remind me of a sweetpea, Emma.
One of the five fingers of the horse-chestnut leaf is a leaflet," Della reasoned out in answer. "Can you think of any other leaves that have leaflets?" "A locust?" "A rose?" "A sweetpea?" The latter answer-question came from Roger and produced a laugh. "All those are right. The leaves that are made up of leaflets are called 'compound' leaves, and the ones that aren't compound are 'simple."
Then the wide street itself, away down and down and down into the distance, was alive with gorgeously-clothed people not still, but moving, swaying, drifting, eddying, a delirious display of all colors and all shades of color, delicate, lovely, pale, soft, strong, stunning, vivid, brilliant, a sort of storm of sweetpea blossoms passing on the wings of a hurricane; and presently, through this storm of color, came swaying and swinging the majestic elephants, clothed in their Sunday best of gaudinesses, and the long procession of fanciful trucks freighted with their groups of curious and costly images, and then the long rearguard of stately camels, with their picturesque riders.
I can no more describe the emotion aroused in my mind by a gray cloud parting over a gray stone, by the smell of a sweetpea, by the sight of one of those long upright pennons of striped grass with the homely name, than I can tell what the glory of God is who made these things.
Then the wide street itself, away down and down and down into the distance, was alive with gorgeously-clothed people not still, but moving, swaying, drifting, eddying, a delirious display of all colors and all shades of color, delicate, lovely, pale, soft, strong, stunning, vivid, brilliant, a sort of storm of sweetpea blossoms passing on the wings of a hurricane; and presently, through this storm of color, came swaying and swinging the majestic elephants, clothed in their Sunday best of gaudinesses, and the long procession of fanciful trucks freighted with their groups of curious and costly images, and then the long rearguard of stately camels, with their picturesque riders.
"If Dorothy buys the Clarks' field she can start a colony of flags and forget-me-nots in the stream," suggested James. "Can you remember cineraria? There's a blue variety of that, and one of salpiglossis, which is an exquisite flower in spite of its name." "One of the sweetpea packages is marked 'blue," said Roger, "I wonder if it will be a real blue?" "Some of them are pretty near it.
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