to the garden, now began to reason with herself.

"Some one must have planted me here," she said; "and though I am not
as sweet as that proud Carnation, nor so elegant as that dignified
Dahlia, I may have as much right to remain here as they!" and she
raised her head erect, and spread out her broad, scarlet petals,
with their deep, ragged fringe, hoping to attract the notice of the
little girl.

And so indeed she did; for as the child paused before pale
sweet-scented Verbena, the flaunting Poppy caught her eye, and she
extended her hand toward the strange blossom.

"Carie, Carie, don't touch that vile thing!" said her mother, "it is
poisonous. The smell of it will make you sick. I do not see how it
came here. John must bring his spade and take it up. We will have
nothing in the garden but what is beautiful or sweet, and this is
neither!"

The poor Poppy! She had begun to love the little girl, the child had
smiled on her so sweetly, and the other flowers had seemed so
envious when that little white hand was stretched out towards her;
and when she drew back, at her Mother's call, reluctantly, but with
look of surprise and aversion, the Poppy did not care how soon she
was banished from a place where she had been treated so unjustly.

However, she was suffered to remain; whether the lady neglected
giving instructions to the gardener respecting her, or whether he
forgot her commands, I am not sure; but there she remained, day
after day, striving every morning to wake up early and pull off her
little green cap before the other flowers had opened their eyes, but
never succeeding in so doing.

It was no enviable position that she occupied, laughed at, despised,
and scorned by all the other flowers in the garden, and in hourly
expectation of being torn up by the roots and thrown into the
street--the poor Poppy!

One day when the lady and her Carie were walking in the garden, the
little girl, who had looked rather pale, put her hands suddenly to
her head, and cried aloud. Her mother was very much frightened. She
caught up the little girl in her arms, and tried to ascertain what
was the matter; but the child only pressed her hands more tightly to
her head, and cried more piteously. The lady carried her into the
house, and the family were soon all in an uproar. The servants were
all running hither and thither; no one seemed to know what was the
matter; for the lady had fainted from terror at her child's pale
face and agon