I should indeed be pleased if one of you children could give me some such answer as that.
So you see this prickly seed case does just as much for its little charges as the juicy apple and velvety peach do for theirs.
And the same thing is true of all those other hooked, or barbed, or prickly little objects that I picked off my clothes the other day, and that cling to you when you take a walk in the fall woods.
They are all fruits. They are the ripe seed cases of the different plants.
But they are dull-looking, and often quite vexing, instead of being pleasant to the sight and taste and touch.
This makes no difference, however, in their having things pretty much their own way. We do not in the least want to carry abroad these little torments, scattering far and wide their seeds, so that another year there will be more burrs and barbs and bristles than ever, to tear our clothes and worry our dogs; but they force us to do them this service, whether we will or no, and never stop to say “By your leave.”
At every turn they are waiting for us. Where we climb the fence, and cross the fields, and break through the woods, we can almost fancy that we hear them whispering together, “Here they come! Now is our chance!”
They remind us of those lazy tramps that lie along the railway, getting on the trucks of passing trains, and stealing rides across the country.
These ugly hooked fruits have one great advantage over the pretty ones that are good to eat. They do not have to wait our pleasure. But when we are most busy and hurried, without a moment to loiter in the apple orchard or among the berry bushes, then, quite as well as, if not better than, during our leisure moments, they lay hold upon us with their tiny claws, and cling closely till we set to work to get rid of them. When we pick them off and fling them to the ground, we are doing just what they most wish.
