66 ROSE AND THE FLOWER. "ROSE, my pet," said Mr. Morton to his little ers ?" girl, "why are you plucking so many flow "To take to auntie, papa. I am sure she will like them, they are such beauties.' "Aunt has finer of her own, love." "Then I may keep them for myself; may I not? They will refresh us on the road." A kind smile said, "Yes ;" and happily did little Rose spring into the car. When they came to the station, Rose saw many people outside. Among them, were some poor, wretched-looking children, thin and dirty. They looked very hard at Rose and her bright nosegay; and one of them at last took courage to say, "Please give me a flower!" Now, she was often called a kind little girl; but this time, I am sorry to say, she did not deserve the name; for, thinking, "How can I give my pretty fuschia and jessamine, and these lovely carnations, to these dirty little creatures," she ran after her papa into the station. At last, the train went off; but Rose, although she had been busy watching the engines, could not make herself quite easy about her flowers and the poor children, though she tried to excuse herself by thinking, "Oh! they could never have taken care of them, so it would have been no good to have given them away." At the next station, there came into the carriage where Rose was, a little cripple, who looked pale and ill. Some one, whom Rose thought was her mother, stood outside, saying, with tears, "Goodbye! God bless my poor child!" and a lady came to the window and gave her a flower-a geranium. Such a beautiful one! Rose's eyes were fixed on it directly. It seemed to please the child, too, for she said, "Thank you, Miss Lucy! Oh, it is pretty!" The train started, and the child kept her eyes, which were full of tears, fixed on her mother, till she could see her no more, and then she looked at her flower, so fondly! and turned it every way, that she might see all its beauty. Not for some time did she see Rose, who was watching her earnestly.. "That lovely geranium !" thought Rose; "how much more beautiful it is than any of my flowers !" and she looked at her own now despised nosegay. At last they came to another station. The little cripple moved slowly to the other end of the seat, opposite Rose. She bent forward, and said, in a pleasant voice, "I think you like my flower; do take it?" Rose blushed, for she did not know that her looks had told her wishes so plainly. She thought, "How good this poor child is! Her only flower, too!" But she had yet said nothing, and the poor cripple felt sad, thinking she had offended Rose. At last Rose said, "No, I thank you; I have all these of my own." Her father had watched what passed anxiously, for he feared Rose would take the flower. But, instead of that, she moved up to him, whispering, "Papa, this little girl loves flowers; may I give her mine!" He smiled a glad answer, and Rose carefully took up her nosegay, and laid it on the child's lap, and then went back quickly to her papa. The little girl thanked Rose, but would only take one or two. Mr. Morton began to talk to her, and found that she was going to her aunt's at Leamington, as the doctor advised it; and she thought that if she tried to make wax-flowers, some of the ladies might buy them, for her mother was poor. Rose never forgot the lesson she had taught her, and was always after that kind herself and tried to make others so. CHILDREN must be busy, Always something learning. Toys and trinkets, for their secrets, Inside-outward turning. While the top is spinning, While the top is humming, Children learn while playing; Children play while learning; Pastimes, often more than lessons, Into knowledge turning. |