I rooshed over wid me ho, thinking theres a snake or tode in the grass.
“Look!” ses Miss Claire, trimbling wid excitement.
“What! Where is the craychure?”
“There! See, its me hedge!” ses she. “O Delia its the first showing. In a little wile it’ll grow bigger and bigger, and by and by therell be flours—beauties. And I” ses she “did it all mesilf—wid these hands. Don’t you see it—that little speck of grane.”
“Sorrer a bit do I see darlint” ses I.
“Why Delia! Its there oonless me eyes decave me.”
“They don’t” ses a bold voice boldly, and the dood nixt door lanes over the fince and stares sintimintully at the spot where Miss Claire is poynting. She guv a little start and blushed. Then she arsks sarcarskully:
“May I arsk if you can see it at that distunce?”
“Certainly” ses he at wunce, “but I belave I cud see it better if I cam a little nearer.” Wid that he joomps over the fince and walks to where Miss Claire is neeling. Together they look at the airth.
“Bully for you!” ses he offering to shake the hand which she holds back timidly. “Why” ses he “its—its a—a rose, is’nt it?” ses he.