She replied, "Oh, I was always pale. Annie says it is pretty."
When we were all sitting around the dinner-table, I introduced the subject again, for it was very sad to find this beautiful and promising child so fragile. Before I left, I took little Susie's hand and we walked into the garden. "And now," said I, "my little one, you must show me your favorite flower."
She took me to a beautiful moss-rose, and exclaimed, "Oh, that is the most beautiful flower in the world; don't you think it lovely, sir?"
I said, "Now, Susie, I shall come here again in two weeks. I wish you would dress up that rose-bush in a suit of your own clothes, and allow the dress to remain till I return."
She laughed, and said, "Why, how queer! why do you want me to do that?"
I replied, "Never mind, but run and get the clothes, and I will help you dress it up, and see if it looks like you."
So off she ran with loud shouts to ask mamma for a suit of her clothes. Of course, mamma had to come and ask if I was serious, and what were my reasons. I said, "I cannot give you my reasons today, but I assure you they are good ones, and when I come again I will explain it all to you."
So a specimen of each and every kind of garment that Susie was in the habit of wearing was brought forward, and Susie and I spent some time in rigging out the rose-bush. First came the little shirt, which made it look very funny; then came the little waist and skirt, then the frock, then the apron, and, finally, over all, a little Shaker sun-bonnet. When we had reached this point, Susie cried out, "Now, how can you put on stockings and shoes?" I said, "We will cut open the stockings and tie them around; the shoes we cannot use." Of course we all laughed, and Susie thought I was the funniest man in the world. She could hardly wait for me to come again, to tell her why I had done such a funny thing.
In two weeks, according to my promise, I was at my friend's house again. Susie had watched her little rose-bush, or, rather, the clothes which covered it, and longed for my coming. But when we took the bonnet, gown, skirt, shirt and stockings away, lo and behold, the beautiful rose-bush had lost its rich green, the flower had lost its beautiful color,—had become, like its mistress, pale and sickly.
"Oh!" she cried, "what made you do so? why, you have spoiled my beautiful rose-bush."