y the roots than to break
the stalk. Now the city folk, like other folk, are inclined to move
along the line of least resistance, and for each flower they gathered,
there were also gathered many crisp-rolled buds and with them all the
possibilities and future beauties of the plant for all time to come.

One of the city folk, a middle-aged gentleman, with white hands and
shifty eyes, especially made life interesting for me. We called him the
"Repeater," what of his ways. When from the porch we implored him to
desist, he was wont slowly and casually to direct his steps toward the
fence, simulating finely the actions of a man who had not heard, but
whose walk, instead, had terminated of itself or of his own volition. To
heighten this effect, now and again, still casually and carelessly, he
would stoop and pluck another poppy. Thus did he deceitfully save
himself the indignity of being put out, and rob us of the satisfaction of
putting him out, but he came, and he came often, each time getting away
with an able-bodied man's share of plunder.

It is not good to be of the city folk. Of this I am convinced. There is
something in the mode of life that breeds an alarming condition of
blindness and deafness, or so it seems with the city folk that come to my
poppy field. Of the many to whom I have talked ethically not one has
been found who ever saw the warnings so conspicuously displayed, while of
those called out to from the porch, possibly one in fifty has heard.
Also, I have discovered that the relation of city folk to country flowers
is quite analogous to that of a starving man to food. No more than the
starving man realizes that five pounds of meat is not so good as an
ounce, do they realize that five hundred poppies crushed and bunched are
less beautiful than two or three in a free cluster, where the green
leaves and golden bowls may expand to their full loveliness.

Less forgivable than the unaesthetic are the mercenary. Hordes of young
rascals plunder me and rob the future that they may stand on street
corners and retail "California poppies, only five cents a bunch!" In
spite of my precautions some of them made a dollar a day out of my field.
One horde do I remember with keen regret. Reconnoitring for a possible
dog, they applied at the kitchen door for "a drink of water, please."
While they drank they were besought not to pick any flowers. They
nodded, wiped their mouths, and proceeded to take themselves of