This advice did not help the wild flowers at all, and the whole day they stood pondering what they should do. When the sun set they shut up their petals and went to sleep; but the whole night through they were dreaming about their seed, and next morning they had found a plan.
The poppy was the first to wake. She cautiously opened some little trap-doors at the top of her head, so that the sun could shine right in on the seeds. Then she called to the morning breeze, who was running and playing along the hedge.
"Little breeze," she said, in friendly tones, "will you do me a service?"
"Yes, indeed," said the breeze. "I shall be glad to have something to do."
"It is the merest trifle," said the poppy. "All I want of you is to give a good shake to my stalk, so that my seeds may fly out of the trap-doors."
"All right," said the breeze.
And the seeds flew out in all directions. The stalk snapped, it is true; but the poppy did not mind about that, for when one has provided for one's children, one has really nothing more to do in the world.
The Farmer and His Boys