THE DAHLIA AND VERBENA
A tall and richly drest Dahlia boasted. She lifted up her head haughtily, as though she felt herself a queen. Her lips moved, and she was heard thus to soliloquize:—
"I alone, of all the flowers around, am truly beautiful. Which of them can compare with me, in elegance of dress, or dignity of deportment?
Yet I suffer for want of society. I cannot associate with those around, who are destitute of my accomplishments.
Here is an insipid Verbena at my feet, always trying to be sociable. She is so ill-bred as to smile, when I meet her eye, as if she were an acknowledged acquaintance.
It is in vain that I strive to convince her of her vulgarity. I cannot even look down without seeing her. I wish she would move away, and give place to some neighbor, more proper for one of my rank.
I doubt whether she even knows that my name is Lady Liverpool. I will throw her
