And your nose will grow like these:
Give me a little posy, please!”
The Gardener knew very well that his nose would not grow again like his whiskers, and he thought the little boy rather rude to mention it; so he became angry.
“Go away!” said he, “and get your posy somewhere else!”
The boy went away disappointed; but the second boy thought he would try his luck too. Perhaps the first boy had not spoken nicely; and he had made a verse of poetry too, which he thought would just suit the old Gardener. So in he came with “Good morning, Mr. Lacknose!”
“Good morning, boy,” said the old man. “And what do you want?”
Then the boy put on a coaxing smile, and said:
“In the autumn seeds are sown,
And ere long they’re fully grown;
May your nose sprout up like these!