Myriads of violets gave a purple tinge to parts of a low
meadow near, and chubby hands were stained with the last of the star-like
bloodroot blossoms, many of which dropped white petals on their way to
Johnnie's throne. Some brought handfuls of columbine from rocky nooks,
and others the purple trillium, that is near of kin to Burroughs's white
"wake-robin." There were so many Jacks-in-the-pulpit that one might fear
a controversy, but the innumerable dandelions and dogtooth violets which
carpeted the ground around the throne diffused so mellow a light that all
the blossoms felt that they looked well and were amiable. But it would
require pages even to mention all the flowers that were brought from
gardens, orchards, meadows, groves, and rugged mountain slopes. Each
delegation of blossoms and young tinted foliage was received by Amy, as
mistress of ceremonies, and arranged in harmonious positions; while
Johnnie, quite forgetful of her royalty, was as ready to help at anything
as the humblest maid of honor. All the flowers were treated tenderly
except the poor purple violets, and these were slaughtered by hundreds,
for the projecting spur under the curved stem at the base of the flower
enabled the boys to hook them together, and "fight roosters," as they
termed it. Now and then some tough-stemmed violet would "hook-off" a
dozen blue heads before losing its own, and it became the temporary hero.
At last the little queen asserted her power by saying, with a sudden
flash in her dark blue eyes, that she "wouldn't have any more fighting
roosters.
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