Oh, then, what a noise there was in the room!
The school-ma'am fetched a mop;
But, the more she tried the water to check,
The more it wouldn't stop.
There never was such water to run:
It seemed, with the children, to like the fun.
What was it that made the little boy fall,
And show such a lack of grace?
I'll tell you all, for I happen to know:
It was only a dirty face!
He looked at himself in the water-pail,
And that made the little boy's footstep fail.
WATERING THE FLOWERS.
"Why is it that flowers always grow so nicely for Mary? I often plant seeds; but nothing comes from them. They won't grow for me. But blossoms seem to spring right up wherever she goes. They must have a particular liking for her."
That's what Master Tom said, one day, as he saw Mary watering the flowers.
Well, it is no wonder, Tom, if flowers do have a liking for such a lovable little girl. There's nothing so very strange about that. How could they help liking her?
