"Oh, because it's so nice to have flowers. I wonder Squire Richmond never pulls any of his; he always leaves them there till they drop off."
"Well, what would he pull them for?"
"Why, to put on the table, of course. Don't you ever gather flowers for your room?"
"No."
"You don't! Why, Georgia! don't you love flowers?"
"No, I don't love them; I like to see them well enough."
"Why, Georgia! Oh, Georgia, what a funny girl you are! Not love flowers! What do you love, then?"
"I love the stars—the beautiful stars, so high, and bright, and splendid!"
"Oh, so do I; but then they're so far off, you know, I love flowers better, because they're nearer."
"Well, that's the reason I don't like them—I mean not so much. I don't care for things I can get so easy—that everybody else can get. Anything I like I want to have all to myself. I don't want anybody else in the world to have it. The bright, beautiful stars are away off—nobody can have them. I call them mine, and nobody can take them from me. I like stars better than flowers."