Suddenly she heard a little shrill voice call out, "Say, you Bluebell you, move over a little; you are leaning over on my little sister."
Millie thought she opened her eyes wide, and looked into the basket, and there were the flowers all turned into little ladies and gentlemen.
She was just going to utter an exclamation, when another voice called out: "This is a very close place; I never was so crowded before, and the sun is just pouring in on me. Do take your feet off my face; and if that Spring-beauty does not stop screaming at the top of his voice just because he happens to have the ear-ache, I do not know what I shall do." And a cross yellow Buttercup gave the little Spring-beauty a very rude push.
"Let's have a concert," said a peace-making Dog-tooth violet, lifting up her little head.
"All right," "All right," came from all the flowers.
"Well, then," continued little Miss Dog-tooth, laughing, "you all seem to want to take part, so let Mr. Jack-in-the-pulpit make a speech."
"I am not well prepared to make a speech, but I will do my best," said Mr. Jack, looking very much flattered, as he straightened his collar. And thus he began, "My dear friends—ahem! ahem!—I want you all to do your best—"
He had gone no farther, when the shrill voice of a wild Columbine called out: "I'd like to know what you know about it, telling us to do our best, indeed! Better 'practice what you preach,' I say. You talk as though you knew everything, when you don't know any more than that baby Cowslip there!" and Mother Columbine subsided, her voice trembling with rage.
A little Anemone then cried out, "We did not want to have a quarrel right away, Madam Columbine."
"Noa; boot of course Matham Columpine con't vell rest unless she's quarrelling," retorted a fat little Dutch Tulip in white breeches and striped coat.