Peter sat just on the edge of the dear Old Briar-patch trying to make up his mind where to go. Mrs. Peter sat under a bramble bush in the Old Briar-patch and told Peter just what she thought of him for wanting to leave the safety of the dear Old Briar-patch at all.

"One of these days you'll never come back," declared little Mrs. Peter. "Then what will I do? You don't seem to think of me at all. If you really had to go, I wouldn't say a word."

"I do have to go," retorted Peter.

"Why, Peter Rabbit, how can you say such a thing?" demanded little Mrs. Peter. "You know very well that you don't have to do anything of the kind."

"Yes, I do," replied Peter. "I just have to go. Something inside makes me. There are ever and ever so many things in the Great World that I don't know about yet, and I simply must learn. I couldn't be happy otherwise. You wouldn't want me unhappy all the time, would you?"

"No-o-o," replied little Mrs. Peter, hesitatingly. "No, of course I wouldn't want you unhappy. But I don't see why you should be unhappy here with me in the dear Old Briar-patch. It's selfishness on your part, Peter Rabbit. That's all it is, selfishness. You don't want to be unhappy by staying, but you don't think anything about my unhappiness in being left alone."

Peter shifted about uneasily. There was truth in what Mrs. Peter said and he knew it. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't mean to needlessly worry Mrs. Peter. He didn't want to make her unhappy any more than he wanted to be unhappy himself. He just ached to go somewhere, but he didn't want to be selfish. With a sigh Peter made up his mind that he would stay at home. He had just opened his mouth to say so when far away on the Green Meadows some yellow specks caught his attention. He sat up a little straighter that he might see better. What could they be? He hadn't the least idea. They appeared not to move. Peter forgot his just formed resolution to stay home. He forgot everything but curiosity about those yellow specks. He must find out what they were. He simply must. So without so much as saying goodbye to little Mrs. Peter away he went, lipperty-lipperty-lip.

Every few jumps Peter sat up to see if those yellow specks were still there. They were. They hadn't moved a bit. The nearer he got to them, the larger they grew. Now despite his curiosity, Peter wasn't reckless. The nearer he got to those yellow things, the more slowly and carefully he moved. He wanted to see, but be himself unseen. The grass was long, and Peter crept through it with the greatest care. When he thought he was near enough, he very slowly sat up so as to look over the tops of the grasses. Then with a squeal of pleasure he bounded forward. There was nothing to be afraid of. No, sir, there was nothing to be afraid of. Those things which at a distance had appeared as yellow specks were flowers, and big flowers at that! They were quite the biggest flowers he had yet found.

To see them at all closely Peter had to sit up and then tip his head back. Even then they were some distance above his head. They hung like so many yellow bells on long, slender stems from the top of a smooth, quite stout stalk, around which at even distances grew circles of half a dozen or more oval, quite long leaves, each having three ribs.

On this particular stalk Peter counted five wide open blossoms and two buds. Some stalks growing near had more and some had less. One of the blossoms hung directly over Peter's head. There were six petal-like parts, each pointed and curling backward. On the inner side each of these was deeper yellow than on the outside, and was thickly spotted with dark, reddish-brown. Peter counted the stamens. There were six. They were long and in color were green. On the tip of each was a big brown cap, the pollen package. Instead of being yellow this pollen was brown. Peter discovered this when a little was shaken out in his face by a mischievous Merry Little Breeze.

Peter didn't need to be told that this was a member of the Lily family. "It is the Meadow Lily!" he cried. "Oh, I am so glad I have found the first ones in bloom. Now I know that summer is here."

Peter had called it the Meadow Lily. This is probably its most common name. But it has several other names. In some places it is called the Field Lily; in others the Wild Yellow Lily; in still others the Nodding Lily; and many people know it as the Canada Lily.

A member of the Bee family, one whom Peter had not seen before, came along and promptly entered one of the flowers. When she came out Peter was ready with a question. "Did you find any sweetness in there?"

"Of course I did," she replied rather testily. Do you suppose I would have wasted my time in there if there hadn't been sweetness? That was a foolish question."

Peter suspected that she was right, and that it was a foolish question. "They are beautiful flowers, aren't they?" he ventured.

"I suppose they are," replied the Bee, "though I don't know that they are any more beautiful than their red cousins over on the edge of the Green Forest."

My, you should have seen Peter prick up his ears. "Do you mean that there are other Lilies in bloom now?" he asked eagerly.

But already the Bee was out of hearing. She was too busy to waste time gossiping. Peter waited around awhile, hoping she would return. But she didn't. So he decided that he would go look for those other Lilies himself. She had said that they were growing on the edge of the Green Forest.

"If they are as big and showy as these, I ought to be able to find them without much trouble," muttered Peter, as he headed for the Green Forest.

When he reached the edge of it he looked eagerly everywhere, but no sign of a Lily did he find. You see he had not reached the Green Forest at the right place. Of course he was disappointed. But Peter knows that a thing worth finding is worth looking for, so he refused to be discouraged. He hopped along through the thickets on the edge of the Green Forest until he at last came to a place where the ground was high and dry. There to his delight he found what he was in search of. Growing on the edge of the thicket were plants with leaves which in shape and arrangement around the stalk were much like those he had just left. The plants were not quite as tall, but still the tops were well above Peter's head.

But of course it was the flowers that Peter was most interested in. Some plants bore only one blossom, while others had three or four, and one had five. Peter knew at once that they were cousins of the Meadow Lily. No one could mistake one of these flowers for a member of any other family. But they were quite different from their nodding bell-like cousins. These flowers did not nod. Each stood erect, and was like a cup with a curving brim. As with the Meadow Lily each flower had six petal-like parts. The color was a bright orange-red, and within, near the base, was more or less yellow spotted with dark purple.

While these petal-like parts were broad in the middle and had somewhat rounded points, at the base they were so narrow that it looked almost as if each grew on a stem. As usual Peter counted the stamens. There were six, and these were long and pink, each with a little brown package of pollen on the tip. The pistil also had a brown tip.

Never having heard the name of this Lily, Peter promptly gave it a name himself. He called it the Wood Lily, and this happens to be the very name by which it is known to very many people. It is also called the Red Lily, the Flame Lily and the Philadelphia Lily.

His curiosity having been satisfied, Peter's conscience suddenly pricked him. He remembered how he really had intended to stay in the dear Old Briar-patch that morning to please little Mrs. Peter. He felt a little ashamed, so he promptly headed back for the dear Old Briar-patch and scampered as only he can scamper when he is in a hurry. And there, to Peter's credit, he remained all the rest of that day.