FLOWER CULTURE AMONG THE CHILDREN. 161 



on the situation, and we are on the point of following- out the sug- 

 gestion when we suddenl}^ become conscious that the inhabitants 

 for blocks around have become interested in our quest, and all re- 

 member at once that Ole Oleson or Peter Peterson lives in the ell to 

 an obscure building. We hasten to the place pointed out. Repeated 

 raps are unanswered. The place seems deserted. We depart, but 

 are suddenly recalled by a child with a face suspiciously clean and 

 hair plastered to his poor little scalp, from which rivulets of damp- 

 ness course their way downward over the freshly renovated victim. 

 He answers to the required name and is soon joined by the other 

 members of his devoted and admiring famil3^, who gather in a ra- 

 diant group about the little garden, and we listen to the historj^ of 

 its fortunes and misfortunes. " Its not the prizes I think of," says 

 the patient overworked mother, '• its doing something to make the 

 world more beautiful and to make people happier. Before the chil- 

 dren had these flowers, we were too poor to do anything for our 

 friends; now if any one is sick we can send them flowers, and it does 

 them good. A little baby died a few days ago; the father and mother 

 are very poor; the children picked every blossom thej^ had. You 

 can see where they picked them." At parting we are proud to clasp 

 the hand of this patient sister, realizing in more senses than one the 

 truth of those immortal words, '"One touch of nature makes the 

 whole world kin." 



The next name on our list is quicklj^ located, but the place has an 

 uncannj- appearance; we insist upon having the protection of the 

 entire partj^and four people are forced to alight from the vehicle and 

 approach the house, swearing fealtj'^ to one another; if the worst 

 comes, at least we will die together. So we await developments, 

 after having ventured to rap. Slowlj^ the door opens, revealing a 

 group who stare at us with horror and amazement. Like Cesario 

 and Sir Andrew Aguecheek in the duel scene, we face each other 

 in quaking suspense. The announcement of our errand is ans- 

 wered by a smile of relief. The children loosen their convulsive 

 grasp of their mother's skirts, the door swings back, and we pass 

 through the one room of the home to the little patch of garden, sur- 

 rounded by its high board fence, to find here the most beautiful gar- 

 den we have yet seen. >The frightened mother forgets her self con- 

 sciousness as she tells us how every morning the entire family 

 gathers here by the light of the rising sun to read this chapter of 

 revelation. Each morning a new verse is added, and what an 

 education it has been to them to watch this development in the 

 handwriting of the Creator, as before their wondering eyes each tinj' 

 seed fulfills the law of its being. The little ones gathering courage 

 from their mother's smile call us hither and thither to see their 

 respective favorites; to tell us the story of certain plants which have 

 a more marked individualit3" than others; to point out the forming 

 fruit-cells and whisper their hopes for the future; to call our atten- 

 tion to their wonderful discovery, " No two of their pansies are 

 alike." Were there ever such fragrrant sweet peas, such large-mouthed, 

 ferocious snap dragons? "See them open their mouths!'' And the 

 astors and verbenas and morning-glories, which could become such 



