A few days later the service-berry swung out white stars on the low hill-sides, but Hale could tell her nothing that she did not know about the “sarvice-berry.” Soon, the dogwood swept in snowy gusts along the mountains, and from a bank of it one morning a red-bird flamed and sang: “What cheer! What cheer! What cheer!” And like its scarlet coat the red-bud had burst into bloom. June knew the red-bud, but she had never heard it called the Judas tree. “You see, the red-bud was supposed to be poisonous. It shakes in the wind and says to the bees, 'Come on, little fellows--here's your nice fresh honey, and when they come, it betrays and poisons them.” “Well, what do you think o' that!” said June indignantly, and Hale had to hedge a bit. “Well, I don't know whether it REALLY does, but that's what they SAY.” A little farther on the white stars of the trillium gleamed at them from the border of the woods and near by June stooped over some lovely sky-blue blossoms with yellow eyes. “Forget-me-nots,” said Hale. June stooped to gather them with a radiant face. “Oh,” she said, “is that what you call 'em?” “They aren't the real ones--they're false forget-me-nots.” “Then I don't want 'em,” said June. But they were beautiful and fragrant and she added gently: “'Tain't their fault. I'm agoin' to call 'em jus' forget-me-nots, an' I'm givin' 'em to you,” she said--“so that you won't.” “Thank you,” said Hale gravely. “I won't.” They found larkspur, too-- “'Blue as the heaven it gazes at,'” quoted Hale. “Whut's 'gazes'?” “Looks.” June looked up at the sky and down at the flower. “Tain't,” she said, “hit's bluer.” When they discovered something Hale did not know he would say that it was one of those-- “'Wan flowers without a name.'” “My!” said June at last, “seems like them wan flowers is a mighty big fambly.” “They are,” laughed Hale, “for a bachelor like me.” “Huh!” said June. Later, they ran upon yellow adder's tongues in a hollow, each blossom guarded by a pair of ear-like leaves, Dutchman's breeches and wild bleeding hearts--a name that appealed greatly to the fancy of the romantic little lady, and thus together they followed the footsteps of that spring. And while she studied the flowers Hale was studying the loveliest flower of them all--little June. About ferns, plants and trees as well, he told her all he knew, and there seemed nothing in the skies, the green world of the leaves or the under world at her feet to which she was not magically responsive. Indeed, Hale had never seen a man, woman or child so eager to learn, and one day, when she had apparently reached the limit of inquiry, she grew very thoughtful and he watched her in silence a long while. “What's the matter, June?” he asked finally. “I'm just wonderin' why I'm always axin' why,” said little June.