"I did it, ma'am, to make it look kind o' cheerful like;" said Timmins, a little abashed at exhibiting such a weakness in such an august presence. "It looks so dry and hard here, and children, poor things, is fond of flowers," and Timmins sighed as she thought of poor Tibbie.
"Are you in your dotage, Timmins, to bring such a frivolous thing as a bouquet into a school-room? who ever heard of such a folly?" and Mrs. Markham sent it spinning through the nearest window.
Timmins sighed again, and rubbed off one of the benches with a corner of her apron; then, looking up as if a bright thought had struck her, she said:
"They say, ma'am, that this world is nothing but a school for us, and yet God has strewn flowers all over it. He must have done it for something."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Mrs. Markham, in extreme disgust; "go, bring in the chairs for the committee, and then ring the bell for the children."
Clang—clang—clang went the bell, and in wound the mournful procession; all habited alike, all with the same listless air, flabby-looking limbs, and leaden complexions.
"Seems to me you look uncommonly stupid," remarked the matron, by way of encouragement to the children; "see if you can't throw a little animation into your faces."
The poor little victims stared open their eyes, and made an ineffectual attempt at a smile, more painful to witness than their former listlessness.
"Stand up straighter, can't you?"