Prudence jumped the flower-bed, followed by Mollie and the dog, and
all three made their way through the thickly growing dandelions, and
seated themselves beside Grizzel. She had filled her lap with
dandelions, and was busily occupied in linking them together as
English children link a daisy-chain.

"What are you doing?" Mollie asked again, as her eyes followed
Grizzel's chain, and she observed that it stretched far away out of
sight among the trees and bushes.

"I am laying a chain right round the garden," Grizzel replied. "When
it is finished it will be the longest dandelion-chain in the world."

"What are you going to do with it?" asked Mollie.

"Nothing," answered Grizzel.

"Then what's the good of making it?" asked Mollie.

"It isn't meant to be any good," answered Grizzel, "it's only meant
to be the longest dandelion-chain in the world."

"But there's nothing beautiful about longness," persisted Mollie.
"You wouldn't like to have the longest nose in the world."

"It would be rather nice," said Grizzel, working as steadily as the
Princess in Hans Andersen's tale of the "White Swans", "then I could
smell all the delicious smells there are. Mamma says a primrose-
patch in an English wood is delicious."