ne's
way." Little Polly, being easily offended, trudged over to the Landis
farm to see Mary, with whom she knew she was a great favorite.

The morning of the Fourth dawned bright and clear. Quite early, while
the earth was still enveloped in a silvery mist, and on the lattice
work of filmy cobwebs, spun over weeds and grass, dewdrops, like tiny
diamonds, sparkled and glistened, until dissolved by the sun's warm
rays, the gay party left home, for the "Palisades" were quite a
distance from the farm, to drive being the only way of reaching the
place, unless one boarded the gasoline motorcar, called the "Cornfield
Express" by farmers living in the vicinity of Schuggenhaus Township.

There is something indescribably exhilarating about starting for an
early drive in the country before sunrise on a bright, clear morning
in midsummer, when "the earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, the
river and forest, the mountain and plain." Who has not felt the sweet
freshness of early morning before "the sunshine is all on the wing" or
the birds awaken and begin to chatter and to sing? There is a hush
over everything; later is heard the lowing of cattle, the twitter of
birds and hum of insect life, proclaiming the birth of the new day.
Passing an uncultivated field, overgrown with burdock, wild carrots,
mullein, thistle and milk weed, Mary alighted and gathered some of the
pods of the latter, inclosing imitation of softest down, which she
used later for filling sofa pillows.

"Look at those pretty wild canaries!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "yellow as
gold, swinging on the stem of a tall weed."

"Professor Schmidt, can you tell me the name of that weed?" questioned
Mary. "I have always admired the plant, with its large leaves and
long, drooping racemes of crimson seeds.

"That," replied the Professor, "is a foreign plant, a weed called
Equisetum from 'Equi,' a horse, and 'Setum'--tail. The country folk
hereabout call it 'Horsetail.' It belongs to the Crptogamous or
flowerless plants. There are only four specimens of this plant in
America. I, too, have always greatly admired the plant."

The Professor was quite a noted botanist. There were few flowers,
plants or weeds of which he was ignorant of the name or medicinal
value. Another bird lazily picked seeds from the thistle blossoms.
"See," exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "one bird has a spear of grass in its
mouth!"

"Yellow star grass," said the Professor, "with which to make a nest.
They neve