“See what I’ve got for Mom,” said the boy named Billy bursting
into Somebody’s room one bright morning in the latter part of
April. “May Flowers! Beauties! Found them away over in the pine
woods just peeping out from under a snow bank.”
“Beauties indeed,” agreed Somebody, “I’m glad you cut them so
carefully. Most children do not understand the importance of
cutting wild flowers instead of tearing them up by the roots.”
“I ought to understand it unless I’m a _dunce_,” laughed Billy,
“you and Mom tell me about it often enough. But why is it called
Mayflower when it always comes in April? Of course I know its
real name is Trailing Arbutus.”
“The Mayflower,” said Somebody, “is spring’s first messenger
wherever it will grow, and its appearance is governed by the
length of the winter, and not by the calendar. I’ve heard of it
in the Rocky Mountains in August. It seems not to be able to live
in very warm places, but loves to snuggle its blossom children
under the snows of winter, who, when they awake push aside the
blankets and creep out to tell the world that spring has come.
“And small as it is,” went on Somebody, “the dear little pink
flower has made history for itself. It was the first flower
to welcome the Pilgrim Fathers and Mothers to the new world
and as spring, on the bleak coast of Massachusetts, is a late
comer, it probably appeared in May, and was christened Mayflower
by the pioneers who knew no other name for it. Anyway it was
very welcome to those poor people who had come through so many
hardships, with its glorious message that the long and cruel
winter was over.”
“Was the boat named after the flower or the other way around?”
asked the boy named Billy.
“I think it must have been that the flower was named after the
boat,” answered Somebody, “as the Mayflower was the boat they
came over in--a little sailing vessel of one hundred and eighty
tons. Yet no other ship’s arrival has had such significance as
that of this little vessel, which brought the Pilgrim Fathers to
America in 1620. The sailing of the Mayflower meant a great deal
to the future of mankind, because the Pilgrim Fathers formed the
compact that established the government of the people, by the
people, and for the people. It is well known that they loved the
little posie, the first thing that welcomed them with a smile of
hopefulness.”
“Why do we not try to cultivate it in our gardens?”
“It starves in gardens,” said Somebody, “very likely because
its needs are not studied. Science has found that it has upon
its roots a friendly fungus which nourishes it. And this friend
refuses to live in the soil of the ordinary garden. Experiments
have been made with soils, and seed from the Mayflower fruit has
been planted and has made some progress, so I’ve heard.”
“I did not know that the flower _had_ a fruit,” said the boy
named Billy.
“I have seen only a few,” said Somebody. “It is a small fruit
which tastes not unlike a strawberry. Mrs. Ant knows all about
it, and it is very likely due to her that you find the flower in
places where it never has been found before.”
“So,” said the boy named Billy, “when one tries to provide a new
home for Lady Trailing Arbutus, one must not only please her very
dainty tastes but those of her friends.”
“You’ll never get very far with flowers or friends, Billy Boy,”
said Somebody, “unless you study them very carefully and try with
all your heart to understand them.”
Billy grinned. “What time do you look for Mayflower fruit?” said
he.
“Along about wild strawberry time,” said Somebody.
[Illustration: The “Mayflower”]