Eagerly, the Brownies assented. Hanny walked ahead with Connie and Vevi over the soft ground. Entering through a picket gate, they made their way between seemingly endless rows of bright green plants.
“All of our fields are now in bud,” Hanny declared. “We will have a very large flower harvest unless rain or a heavy wind should harm the plants.”
“I haven’t seen any tulips in bloom except in the greenhouses,” Connie remarked.
“Uncle Peter’s are the first in Rosedale. The ones in this field are an especially early variety.”
“Is the prize tulip here?” Vevi teased.
“I’m not saying,” laughed Hanny. “Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. You will have to discover the answer for yourself.”
Already, though not fully in bloom, the field was speckled with color. Never had the girls beheld so many different types of tulips.
There were rows of tall pink ones, and short, stubby double yellows. Some were variegated with odd markings.
“Wait until the parrot tulips bloom!” Hanny declared proudly. “They have ragged, queer-shaped petals that look like the feathers of a bird!”
“Your uncle’s prize tulip isn’t a parrot?” Vevi demanded.