Bobby’s mother now regretted that she had not begun earlier to tell this story of the flower to Bobby. For she realized that had she done this then, now when he had reached the stage of development where he was curious about his own being, she could at once have taken up the story of his own creation, and, of course, referred back to the story of the creation of the lower species. This would have simplified matters greatly. However, she decided it could never be too late and the easiest and quickest way even now, was to begin with the flowers.
It now occurred to Bobby’s mother that to teach her child alone the truths of Nature would be a most fruitless task; for in playing with his companions, they would undo all her work unless they, too, were taught the truths, and in the same way.
She consequently set about gathering in the children of the neighborhood with whom Bobby played. She explained to the mothers what she was about to do. Most of them strongly objected to their boys learning these things which they considered of interest only to grown-ups. But five of the mothers consented, and seemed delighted to have their children taught the truths in this most beautiful and interesting manner.
Accordingly, she took five little children, together with her own, ranging in ages from five to six and one-half years, and started in the woods to hunt for the common wild flowers. Soon they were scrambling over boulders and fallen trees in search of mountain pinks, violets, buttercups, anemones, etc., calling and shouting to each other at each new find, their faces bright and happy with the glow of health. It was a picture never to be forgotten; and as they gathered around Bobby’s mother, who was seated on a moss covered, fallen tree, they received their first lesson.
As the buttercup was a little early—those on this particular outing being the first ones found of the season—they naturally made it the most popular flower; and so it became logically the first family to be studied.
They were told that the whole buttercup, as they held it, was the Buttercup House, whose color was yellow, and that inside the house, within the petals, was the Buttercup Family.
“Is there a father?” asked one; “and a mother?” asked another.
“Yes, indeed; there must be a father and mother if there are to be any seeds,” was the reply.
Then they were told that all forms of plant life have but one object and that object is to reproduce their kind—“to make more flowers.”
They were told that the flowers have reproductive organs—“parts that make more flowers”—called pistils and stamens.