A Summer in a Canyon by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin
page 33 of 218 (15%)
page 33 of 218 (15%)
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tongue-confusing word with a terrible grimace.
'I'm not writing a botany,' retorted Margery; 'and I can never remember that word, much less spell it. I don't see how it grows under such an abominable Russian name. It's worse than ichthyosaurus. Do you remember that funny nonsense verse? - "I is for ichthyosaurus, Who lived when the world was all porous; But he fainted with shame When he first heard his name, And departed a long while before us."' 'The Spaniards are more poetic,' said Aunt Truth, 'for they call it la copa de oro, the golden cup. Oh, see them yonder! It is like the Field of the Cloth of Gold.' The sight would have driven a royal florist mad with joy: a hillside that was a swaying mass of radiant bloom, a joyous carnival of vivid colour, in which the thousand golden goblets, turned upward to the sun, were dancing, and glowing, and shaming out of countenance the purple and blue and pink masses which surrounded them on every side. 'You know Professor Pinnie told us that every well-informed young girl should know at least the flora of her own State,' said Jack, after the excitement had subsided. 'Well, one thing is certain: Professor Pinnie never knew the STATE |
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