"Oh, guess which hand? My, my! Once on a time I knew a lovely way to tell for certain By looking in the ears. But I forget it. Er, let me see. I think 111 take the right. That's sure to be right even if it's wrong. Come, hold it out. Don't change.—-A Ram's Horn orchid! A Ram's Horn! What would I have got, I wonder, If I had chosen left. Hold out the left. Another Ram's Horn! Where did you find those, Under what beech tree, on what woodchuck's knoll?"
Anne looked at the large lawyer at her side, And thought she wouldn't venture on so much.
"There were four or five. I knew you wouldn't let me pick them all."
"I wouldn't—-so I wouldn't. You're the girl! You see Anne has her lesson learned by heart."
"I wanted there should be some there next year."
"Of course you did. You left the rest for seed, And for the backwoods woodchuck. You're the girl! A Ram's Horn orchid seedpod for a woodchuck Sounds something like. Better than farmer's beans To a discriminating appetite, Though the Ram's Horn is seldom to be had In bushel lots—-doesn't come on the market. But, Anne, I'm troubled; have you told me all? You're hiding something. That's as bad as lying. You ask this lawyer man. And it's not safe With a lawyer at hand to find you out. Nothing is hidden from some people, Anne. You don't tell me that where you found a Ram's Horn You didn't find a Yellow Lady's Slipper. What did I tell you? What? I'd blush, I would. Don't you defend yourself. If it was there, Where is it now, the Yellow Lady's Slipper?"
"Well, wait—it's common—-it's too _common._"
"Common? The Purple Lady's Slipper's commoner."
"I didn't bring a Purple Lady's Slipper To _You_-—to you I mean—-they're both too common."
The lawyer gave a laugh among his papers As if with some idea that she had scored.
"I've broken Anne of gathering bouquets. It's not fair to the child. It can't be helped though: Pressed into service means pressed out of shape. Somehow I'll make it right with her—-she'll see. She's going to do my scouting in the field, Over stone walls and all along a wood And by a river bank for water flowers, The floating Heart, with small leaf like a heart, And at the _sinus_ under water a fist Of little fingers all kept down but one, And that thrust up to blossom in the sun As if to say 'You! You're the Heart's desire.' Anne has a way with flowers to take the place Of that she's lost: she goes down on one knee And lifts their faces by the chin to hers And says their names, and leaves them where they are."