"Ah, scarlet geranium, blossom true!
Ah, lovely lobelia blue!
Why look those eyes so mournfully?
For whom do you wear,
In the morning bright,
Those glistening tears of dew?
"Ah! do you still know me?..."
But he got no further, because he found it too hard, and also because he had no paper with him.
Just then Marjon came up:
"Why do you sit there bungling, Jo, and let me do all the work? As soon as the bread and butter comes you'll be sure to be on hand."
She spoke rather tartly, and it was not surprising that Johannes retorted curtly:
"I am not always thinking of money, and something to eat, like you."
That hit harder than he thought; and now the sun was sparkling not only upon the dew-drops in the lobelia's eyes, but upon those in the two clear eyes of a little girl. However, Marjon was not angry, but said gently:
"Were you making verses?"
Johannes nodded, without speaking.
"Excuse me, Jo. May I hear them?"