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"That was a beautiful girl!" said Wilhelm, and looked back once more. "A rosebud that one could kiss until it became a full blown rose!" "During the experiment the rosebud might easily be broken!" answered Otto; "at least such is the case with the real flower. But do not look back again, that is a sin!" "Sin?" repeated Wilhelm; "no, then it is a very innocent sin!
He drove the conveyance into Beacon Crossing, but, as they were using the lawyer's hired "democrat," he occupied the driving-seat with the man who had brought the lawyer out to the farm. Thus it was he spoke little to Rosebud on the journey. Later, at the depot, he found many things to occupy him and only time to say "good-bye" at the last moment, with the lawyer looking on.
"I think father was right to do that," she said simply. The man nodded. The next moment he was kneeling, his body bending forward, and his eyes straining in the direction of the horizon. "What is it?" the girl asked. "Ther's something movin'." But Rosebud could hear nothing. Still she was content to accept his assurance. "It's wheels," he said after a few moments. "Is it Joe Smith's outfit?"
She at once warmed to Ma, whose gentle practical disposition displayed such a wealth of true womanliness as to be quite irresistible, and, in the confidence of her bedchamber, which she shared with Rosebud, she imparted her favorable impressions.
Then Yellow Shield said he would call White-Man-Runs-Him and Goes-Ahead to join us. After they had called these men they put us on the steamboat and sent us down the river, sending the other Crows home. We were taken down to the mouth of the Little Rosebud by the Yellowstone. We were told after we had had our dinner that we must dress ourselves up and paint up and get ready to scout.”
Julian has been parading round the garden this morning, blowing a trumpet which papa brought him from Chester, and dragging after him a portentous wooden cannon, which would not help to gain the smallest battle. It is actually a sunny day! . . . A very great joy it is to Rosebud to see the lovely little English robins come to pick up crumbs. They excite a peculiar love.
There was a farm-yard, which did not belong to itself, but was so close to it that a stranger could scarcely have told whether it formed part of the Rosebud domain or that of the neighbouring cottage. The day, too, was exceptionally fine. It was one of those still, calm, sunny, cloudless days, which induce healthy people sometimes to wish that earth might be their permanent home.
She had almost reached her father, and he was holding out his arms to receive her, and take from her lips the kiss which hovered on them like a butterfly on a rosebud, when a puff of wind blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who had just been receiving a message from his Majesty.
It is due, also, to Solomon Flint to record that after his long life of faithful service in the Post-Office he retired on a small but comfortable pension, and joined the "Rosebud Colony," as Pax styled it, taking his grandmother along with him.
At fifteen, she was a rosebud so pretty, so fresh-looking, with her light hair as soft as silk; but she wasted away by degrees her trade of renovating mattresses killed her. She was slowly poisoned by the emanations from the wool. They were all the worse, that she worked almost entirely for the poor, who have cheap stuff to lie upon.
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