“I don’t fancy Peggy and Dan will think so when we tell them everything,” said the host. “We are all of us nothing in ourselves, my child; only, here and there we pluck a bit of lavender,—that is, we do some good thing or say some kind word,—and then we get a sweet savor from it. You will gather a great deal of lavender in your life, or I am mistaken.”
“I will try,” said Bertie, who understood.
So, off the downs that day, and in the pleasant hawthorn woods of the friendly little Isle, he plucked two heads of lavender,—humility and sympathy. Believe me, they are worth as much as was the moly of Ulysses.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 22, “thei” changed to “their” (even in their dulness)
Page 51, “draw” changed to “drew” (drew out with his teeth)
Page 70, “gir” changed to “girl” (girl whom he afterwards)
Page 119, “drins” changed to “drink” (drink your reward at)