The Flower Girls.
Pubd. May 1, 1831, by J. Harris, St. Pauls Church Yard.
"Wild flowers! I love wild flowers!" said a rosy girl, eagerly approaching Barbara: "and these violets! Ah! the dew is yet upon them."—"What can you see to admire in these wild blossoms?" inquired Caroline with a look of ineffable disdain. "Why, my dear Carry, what can be more beautiful?"—"Garden flowers, to be sure. Is there any thing here equal to our sweet graceful snowy lily of the valley?"—"Some people prefer violets; I own I love the lily. But Carry, dear, the lily is wild, you know, in some countries."—"Nonsense, nonsense! Wild, indeed! that tender and delicate flower? You are wild to say so."—"My dear child! all I know is, that when we were travelling on the banks of the Rhine, our servants used to gather us such large and lovely nosegays of lilies from the rocks and hedges." Caroline was silenced.—Her chattering friend continued. "In fact, Carry, dear, all flowers must grow wild, that is, naturally, somewhere, or how should we obtain them? There were not hot-houses and gardeners always, you know;" and she smiled archly. "But art produces varieties, endless varieties."—"True, my dear; but the change is not always for the better. Now, the large lovely wild lily of the Rhine is as superior to our delicate cultivated flower—" "Oh! my dear, don't make me sick, about these nasty flowers."
Caroline was not a person to be convinced; so her friend turned to the flower girl. "You sell these flowers?"—"Yes, my good young lady, because we are a large family, and every little helps, you know; and I am not old enough to work."—"And what will you do with the money?"—"Give it all to mammy, to be sure."—"Then come to this house, and my mammy will buy them," said the young girl, laughing.
THE OLD WOODCUTTER.
Old Jarvis was very fond of his youngest grandson Hubert; and the villagers said he was quite, out and out, spoiling the boy.
"By making him love me?" said Jarvis.