There are two or three reasons why the part of Traveller's Joy suited me very well.

In the first place it required a good deal of trouble, and I like taking trouble.

Then John was willing to let me do many things he would not have allowed the others to do, because he could trust me to be careful and to mind what he said.
On each side of the long walk in the kitchen garden there are flowers between you and the vegetables, herbaceous borders, with nice big clumps of things that have suckers, and off-shoots and seedlings at their feet.
"The Long Walk's the place to steal from if I wasn't an _honest_ Root-gatherer," said Harry.
John had lovely poppies there that summer.

When I read about the poppies Alphonse Karr sowed in the wild nooks of his native country, it made me think of John's French poppies, and paeony poppies, and ranunculus poppies, and carnation poppies, some very large, some quite small, some round and neat, some full and ragged like Japanese chrysanthemums, but all of such beautiful shades of red, rose, crimson, pink, pale blush, and white, that if they had but smelt like carnations instead of smelling like laudanum when you have the toothache, they would have been quite perfect.
In one way they are nicer than carnations.

They have such lots of seed, and it is so easy to get.