1 There were some ground-cherry bushes growing along the furrows, full of fruit.
2 The whole prairie was like the bush that burned with fire and was not consumed.
3 It always grew in our yard and my papa had a green bench and a table under the bushes.
4 In the ravine a ringdove mourned plaintively, and somewhere off in the bushes an owl hooted.
5 We stood panting on the edge of the ravine, looking down at the trees and bushes that grew below us.
6 It was so long that it bushed out behind his ears, and made him look like the old portraits I remembered in Virginia.
7 Beyond the corncribs, at the bottom of the shallow draw, was a muddy little pond, with rusty willow bushes growing about it.
8 Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor.
9 I crossed the bridge and went upstream along the wooded shore to a pleasant dressing-room I knew among the dogwood bushes, all overgrown with wild grapevines.
10 A great chunk of the shore had been bitten out by some spring freshet, and the scar was masked by elder bushes, growing down to the water in flowery terraces.
11 The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucie crept through it by a hole known only to themselves and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes.
12 The elder bushes did not grow back in the shady ravines between the bluffs, but in the hot, sandy bottoms along the stream, where their roots were always in moisture and their tops in the sun.
13 At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards: a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds.
14 I remember how the world looked from our sitting-room window as I dressed behind the stove that morning: the low sky was like a sheet of metal; the blond cornfields had faded out into ghostliness at last; the little pond was frozen under its stiff willow bushes.