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"This is a wild rose. Oh, Ronald, isn't it sweet! I could tell it by its fragrance without even touching it. Now listen; a wild rose is colored a lovely soft pink, with a little yellow sun in the center, that sends out tiny, yellow rays all around. I can feel them with my fingers. And, Ronald, this rose is lighter colored than this one, and the dark one has not such a smooth, even shade as the light one. Isn't that true?"
"Why, Dorothy, how do you know?" came the boy's astonished voice; "You—" breathlessly, "you can't see?"
The little girl laughed gleefully. "Didn't I surprise you though, Ronald? Well, I'll tell you how I know: this lighter one is larger and the petals are a little thicker and juicier, and so I know that it
