"What are they called! Why, Rose, of course; but 'Seven Sisters' is what they're always known by." "There couldn't be seven all called 'Rose,' could there ?" asked Jessie gravely.

"They _must_ have a name each.

Let me see, one could be 'White Rosie,' another 'Pink Rosie,' then there could be 'Red Rosie,' and 'Rosamund '; that's four." "Perhaps the others is Cabbage Rosie, Dog Rosie, and Cider Rosie," said grandfather, chuckling.
Jessie burst into a peal of laughter as she thrust one hand into her grandfather's.

"What things you do say, granp," she protested, and clasping her bouquet in her other hand, she skipped along by the old man's side.

"Oh, I have learnt such a lot of things to-day," she said impressively.