Harry read it,—
"For our Maggie and Bessie, the dear little workers in the garden of the Lord, who tended the Christian plants of patience, kindness, and forbearance, till their lovely blossoms overran the evil weeds of malice and ill-will, and sowed the seeds of that which brought forth fruit for the glory of God."
"I don't understand it," said Maggie. "Does it mean the canary is for Bessie and me?"
"Of course," said Harry.
"But I am sure we ought not to have any credit about the marigolds," said Maggie, still wondering. "If there is any, it is Dolly's or Lem's."
"And Harry," said Bessie, "the marigolds are pretty ugly. I don't much think we ought to have a prize, even if we had grown them up."
"Dolly left you the marigolds," said Harry; "so, if they win a prize you ought surely to have it, and I am glad of it,—that I am. But I don't quite think it was these poor little scrubs that had that honor."
"But, O Maggie! just to think of that lovely, darling, little birdie being for us," said Bessie, pleasure beginning to have its way over surprise; "and we never 'spected a thing 'cause we had no flowers."
"Yes," said Maggie, now in great delight as she began to understand how it was, "and we would rather have had it than any thing else."