When the two blades had been most carefully chosen and most tenderly picked, something still troubled the gardener.
“What is it now, Tommy Tregennis?”
“I wish I could take Miss Lavinia a bunch from my garden, I do.”
Miss Margaret hesitated. She did not know Miss Lavinia, and wondered if she was a woman of understanding, or if she would only scorn the gift that meant so much to the little giver.
“Pick just a tiny bunch,” she advised, “I think Miss Lavinia would like that.”
Tommy selected two blades from each of the three plants, but still he paused.
“Will my other grasses have flowers ever?” he asked, confident that the Blue Lady could always tell him everything he wished to know.
She stooped now to examine the others. “Yes,” she told him; “they will be in flower quite soon.”
Happily Tommy knelt once more and plucked his “miggle feather” to add to Miss Lavinia’s bunch, then he ran off to school in such excitement that he quite forgot to call for Ruthie on the way.
Miss Margaret returned to her room, and taking from the shelf the Oxford Book of English Verse, she opened it at Thomas Edward Brown’s poem “A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot.” With a smile she laid the two blades of grass between the pages.