They smelled
more sweetly than any other flower in the garden, and the children
could scarcely speak at first, they were so surprised.
"Roses!" said one child.
"Pink roses!" said another child.
"The prickly little bush has turned into a rose bush for our mother's
birthday," said the youngest child.
So they smelled of the beautiful pink roses, and touched them to feel
how soft and like velvet the petals were. Then they decided that the
pink roses that had bloomed on the prickly little bush were the
loveliest flowers in the whole garden, and they picked the largest
pink rose of all to carry into the house for their mother's birthday
gift.
On the way they met the gardener, and they showed him the beautiful
rose, telling him how it had grown upon the prickly little bush. He
smiled, for he knew a great deal about the strange ways of his plants.
"I thought it would bear roses this year," the gardener said. "It
often happens that the bush with the sharpest thorns to carry, once it
blooms, has the prettiest roses."
ARBOR DAY
THE TINKER'S WILLOW
One day, when my Grandfather Gifford was about seven years old, he
looked across the road to his father's blacksmith shop, and seeing
some one sitting on the bench by the door, went over to learn who it
was.
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