"Common white quartz, Harold. You are giving me easy specimens, which is lucky for both of us."
"Why, father, where did you learn all their names?"
"I don't know all their names. I know only the most common ones. To find the names of some kinds of rock or stone I should need quite an outfit, such as you may have seen in the high-school laboratory."
"Do all the flowers have names, too, father?"
"Harold, if you could find a flower that has not been named you would become quite famous. The flower probably would be named after you. Think of that! There is something to work for; and you were wishing only last night that you could be a famous man."
"Where did all the flowers get their names? Did the teachers name them?"
"Oh, I suspect the teachers named some, and many people helped them. I don't believe I ever stopped to think that it is curious that everything on the earth and in the sea and in the sky is named. You are a very thoughtful boy, Harold. Ask all the questions you please."
This praise from his quiet father made Harold happier than anything in the world. He was silent a moment, but then asked:
"Have the stars names, too, father? I mean all of them. I know those large ones have, for you told me."
"Yes, Harold, every star has a name of some kind. Some of them have only a letter or a number. But that answers for a name, you know."