Tom, Dot and Talking Mouse | Page 8

dawn, and her voice, when she spoke, was low
and tender, like the restful ripple of the rain. And to the flowers, as you
know, my birdie, the hearts of the pure lie ever open and unsealed, and
I saw into her heart, that the thought of it was white and spotless as a
lily, and I saw that her thought was a prayer, and that she said, 'Dear
Lord, I thank Thee for making this little flower so fair and lovely, and I
ask Thee that I may be, in heart, as pure and holy as she!'"
MORNING
"Wake up, little flower, and hear what I have to tell you," said the bird
gaily, "for I, too, have seen your angel--and angel is she none, but the
fairest maiden from the town beyond the hillside."
And to her the flower made low reply:
"Can any one as fair as she be found out of heaven? And, moreover, I
looked into her heart, and saw that the thought of it was white, and pure
as the morning."
[Illustration: Little girls picking flowers]
"It is only the flowers that can see into hearts," said the bird gravely;
"but this I know, that your angel is of earth, not heaven." So saying, she
spread her silken wings and flew away.
But the flower said, "Is there, in all heaven, anything more fair than a

maiden?"
NOON
"I would not pluck you to please my idle fancies, dear blossom," said
the maiden gently, "for I cannot bear to see the wild flowers wither and
fade! But I know of one who lies ill and dying, to whom the scent and
sight of a wild flower may bring some passing moment of peace. Tell
me, then, you who are so pure and lovely, will not you spare a space of
your slender life, that so you may make happy the heart of a sorrowing
one?"
Then the flower said, "Dear maiden, I will"; but inasmuch as it spake
not the maiden's language, it breathed forth all its perfume, like sweet
music, in consent. And, though the maiden knew not that the flower
had heard her words, and had answered her, yet at heart she was
strangely though sweetly saddened. "Even in heaven I should long for
the earth-flowers!" she said, as she drank in the fragrance. "Is there
anything, in all heaven, more fair than a flower?"
* * * * * *
Then the maiden plucked the flower, and bore it away from the birds
and the sunshine, away from the wind and the trees, to a squalid court
in a great city, where a dying woman lay, haggard and wan, upon a bed.
And as the flower looked into the soul of the dying woman, its fair
leaves seemed to wither and wilt, as though some foul breath had come
forth upon it, for therein it could see nothing because of the blackness
and the sin. And at first the flower shrank into itself, and would fain
have gathered up its perfume, but it thought of the prayer in the
maiden's heart, and, opening out its snowy petals to their full, it
breathed forth a fragrance which filled the foul room as with music and
light. And as the dying woman looked upon the flower, she thought of
the white lilies which she had gathered and placed upon her dead
mother's bosom--many, ah! so many weary years ago; and she thought
of the days when she too was pure and beautiful, and had knelt at that
mother's knee, to whisper, after her, the hallowed words to the Father in
heaven.

Then the flower saw that in the woman's heart there was some strange
and sudden commotion, as though the light were seeking to win in its
way, and to drive out the darkness and sin.
And, folding her wasted hands together, the dying woman turned to the
light, and said, "Dear Lord Jesus, make me--even me--white and pure
as this lily, and wash away all my sins in Thy precious blood. Amen."
And when the dawn came, the flower lay withered and drooping; but,
ere it died, it saw into the woman's heart that it was white and pure as
the snow-flake.
And there passed from that room a shining angel, and lo! on her bosom
lay a little flower.

WATER-LILY'S MISSION
"Come away, beautiful flower," said the kingfisher; "do not waste your
beauty in this melancholy mere; float away down the gleaming river
where tall bulrushes grow and where you shall find companions."
But the water-lily said, "No, I cannot go, for up in yonder tower is a
prisoner, and I cheer his lonely days. He watches me and smiles, and
forgets that he is a captive. I cannot leave one so