United States or Georgia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
And the story was to be, so the whisper went on, "the beautif'lest story, oh, you never did!" And its name was to be, what a faint and feeble reproduction of the old triumphant announcement of a new title! "The Posy Gardin' that the King Kep'." She never told us that story.
Some ways it made the man think a mite of the way his father, that had died ever so long ago, used to look at him when he was a boy, and had been bad, and then was sorry and 'shamed. Oh, 't was the beautif'lest face you never see! "Oh! what ever does it mean?" says the man out loud. "What's changed that face so? Oh! what in the world's made it so diff'ent?"
"Why, to set out in his gardin," the man says. "He's got the beautif'lest gardin you never see, and I pick posies for 't." "Deary me," thinks she to herself, "I jest wish he'd pick me. But I ain't the kind, I know." And then she says, so soft he can't hardly hear her, "What sort o' posies is it you're arter this time?" "Well," says the man, "it's a dreadful sing'lar order I've got to-day.
And she looked, and she see he was p'intin' to the beautif'lest little plant you never see, straight and nice, with little bits o' soft green leaves, with the sun a-shinin' through 'em, and, well, somehow, you never can get it through your head how mothers take in things, she knowed cert'in sure that was her little berry. The Angel begun to speak.
Word Of The Day