ALICE: Why are there so many kinds of flowers, Uncle Fred?

UNCLE FRED: That is a hard question, Alice. I might ask you: Why are there so many kinds of little girls?

BOBBY: I know the answer to that: because they all like to be different.

UNCLE FRED: A good answer, Bobby! We might say that most flowers like to be different too.

Let us have a look at one flower, and then we shall compare it with a few others. [He picks a flower from the wayside.] What is this flower called?

BOTH: A buttercup, of course!

UNCLE FRED: Why is it called a buttercup, do you think?

BOBBY: I suppose it is because cows eat it to make the butter yellow.

UNCLE FRED: Wrong, Bobby! Cows don’t like buttercups, because they have a rather bitter taste.

ALICE: I know because it is yellow like butter, and the flower is in the shape of a cup.

UNCLE FRED: I think that is the right answer to the question, Alice. See, the flower is a cup made up of five yellow leaves; these are called petals. Inside the flower you can see a ring of tiny stalks with yellow heads; these are called stamens. Right in the middle of the flower is a little green prickly-looking ball in which there are seeds. From these seeds new buttercup plants may grow.

BOBBY: Here is a flower of a different shape and colour.

UNCLE FRED: Yes, this one does not have five different petals like a butter-cup; instead, they are all joined together and the flower is like a blue bell. The parts inside the flower look like the tongue of a bell.

ALICE: That is why we call it a blue-bell. isn't it?

UNCLE FRED: Quite right; many people call it by that name, but its real name is-
wild-hyacinth, for it grows from a bulb, just like those hyacinths which we plant in jars and bowls. Would you like to know why this flower is called a hyacinth?

BOTH: Yes, please tell us.

UNCLE FRED: Well, in very far-off times, a handsome Greek youth named Hyacinth was the playmate of the great god Apollo. One day, when the two were at play, Hyacinth was killed by accident. Apollo was filled with such grief that he caused a beautiful flower to spring up in the place of his playmate. It is said that on the petals of the flower were the words 'Alas! Alas!'

ALICE: What a lovely story! Is this the flower that sprang up?

UNCLE FRED: So it is said, Alice, but we must remember that it is only a story, and you know that all stories are not true.
[Picks a flower.] Look, here is another flower which is quite different.

BOBBY: That! Why, it's only a silly dandelion!

UNCLE FRED: I don't think that any dandelion is silly, Bobby. If you look very, very carefully, you will see that each of these golden­-yellow petals is a flower in itself. There is a little seed-box for each of these flowers. When the bright petals wither away, you can see all the seed­-boxes, with their little tufts of hair, ready to be blown away by the wind. Before they are scattered, the dandelion head looks like a ball of soft down.

ALICE: See, here is one. [Picks a dandelion seed­stalk.] I call it a dandelion clock, because I can tell the time by it. [She blows as she counts.] One O'clock-two o'clock - three-four-five-six-seven-eight-Oh dear! -nine-ten-eleven-twelve! At last I've blown them all away. It must be twelve O'clock!

UNCLE FRED [looking at his watch]: So it is! Your wonderful dandelion clock is exactly right. It's time to hurry home for lunch.