“Forget-me-nots,” said Hale. June stooped to gather them with a radiant face.
“Oh,” she said, “is that what you call 'em?”
“They aren't the real ones—they're false forget-me-nots.”
“Then I don't want 'em,” said June. But they were beautiful and fragrant and she added gently:
“'Tain't their fault. I'm agoin' to call 'em jus' forget-me-nots, an' I'm givin' 'em to you,” she said—“so that you won't.”
“Thank you,” said Hale gravely. “I won't.”
They found larkspur, too—
“'Blue as the heaven it gazes at,'” quoted Hale.
“Whut's 'gazes'?”
“Looks.” June looked up at the sky and down at the flower.