Violet was looking at the little yellow flowers, on stalks curving u pin the shape of a cup. She knew she'd seen those before, the name was on the tip of her tongue, but she just could think of it. She wished she'd got her hand up sooner--she could have named the iris or the chrysanthemum.

Sighing, she looked around at the others. Was that purple one what she thought it was? Raising her hand, she said, "Is that kind of bushy purple one a Chinese Aster?" Though she thought the aster might be bushier than this was.