Down went the sods on the ground, and away went the barrow for some more; and again and again it went, until at least a dozen loads had been brought; and then, taking off his coat, the very brown young man, whistling merrily all the time, began to make a grass plot.
Soon all the sods were put down; and the tiny garden commenced already to look bright and cheerful.
“Jenny!” called the brown-faced, brown-eyed, brown-haired (wasn’t he brown?) gardener, as he took off his hat to wipe his brow.
A rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed young woman came to the cottage door in answer to his call, with a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed baby girl in her arms. “O, the beautiful grass!” cried she, when she saw what had been done; and, “Pretty, pretty!” said the baby girl, clapping her fat, dimpled hands.
Then the grass thought of what the brook had sung.
“It makes the place look pleasant at once,” said the man, leaning on his spade and looking smilingly at his work. “But just wait till we have a good shower, and then it will be as green as—as—green as—well, as green as grass, for I don’t know anything greener,” he added, laughing. “And I say, Jenny, what a splendid place it’ll be for baby to tumble about on! You can latch the gate, and then she can roll about here as much as she pleases—bless her little heart!”
“Bess ’er ittie heart!” echoed baby, with funny gravity.
“Yes, indeed,” answered the happy mother, kissing the soft, sweet red mouth of her darling. “She’ll have many a merry hour here, with the daisies and dandelions. How thankful we ought to be,” she went on a moment after, her face growing serious with a feeling of gratitude, “to Our Father in Heaven for covering the earth with such a lovely garment—so soft for the weary feet, so refreshing to the tired eyes! And do you know, Ralph, I never feel so sorry for the poor in great cities as I do in summer, when I think of them shut in tall, dreary brick houses, from the windows of which they can see nothing but paving-stones, no beautiful grass, or else such little struggling patches that the sight makes them sadder than ever.”
“There, what did we tell you?” asked a voice so tiny that only the grass heard—and lo! a dandelion that had clung to its friends, and so been carried along to share their new abode.
“Yes—yes, you were right,” answered the grass. “We see how blessed we are, and now we wouldn’t change places with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed.”